


Long Road Ahead

by bebe_writer



Series: Where Hounds and Wolves Run Free [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), game of thrones
Genre: Blood and Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-03-30 20:40:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 44
Words: 100,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19035220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bebe_writer/pseuds/bebe_writer
Summary: My take on what should have happened between 8X04 and 8X05. i.e. What should have happened when Sandor left to kill his brother and Arya joined him.Sandor can’t keep his eyes off his little wolf.





	1. Sandor

Sandor looked over at the young wolf for probably the hundredth time in the last three hours. Her eye was still blackened and her face scratched from the fight against the White Walkers and the Night King, but she otherwise looked fine. He guessed that even if she had been stabbed the wolf-bitch wouldn’t have said anything regardless. Stubborn little thing she was.

He left Winterfell two days ago and he already knew this was going to be a long ride. He didn’t want to leave her there, but when he realized all those dead fuckers had actually _died_ , he needed to finish what he set out to do his entire life when he saw his demon-looking brother in Kings Landing.

He needed to end him. He caused too much pain as it was already and he needed to not only die, but also suffer for his wickedness.

What he wasn’t expecting when he set out on his journey was the little wolf-bitch to follow. He honestly thought she would stay in Winterfell as a hero, protect her family, and probably marry that winging little shit who was always staring at her. Gerald? Andrew? Stupid fucking shit with a stupid fucking name.

She was different when he saw her again, so much different than the feisty little girl who left him to die in the Vale. She was harder, colder, and stronger. She was even surer of herself and her actions than she was when they were running around the Riverlands.

He had to admit when he first saw her he was shocked she had grown up so much in body and mind. She no longer asked countless questions and always on the attack. Oh, she was for sure just as ferocious as she was all those years ago, but more… controlled. He was also surprised to find himself yearning to be around her when he arrived in Winterfell with Jon Snow and the rest of the lot.

It also did not slip past him that she was a woman grown now, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Her face had lost all of it’s childish roundness and she had her mother’s sharp chin and cheekbones. No longer was her body flat, in fact she had a good shape to her. The curves were not as prominent as the Little Bird’s, but they were definitely there. Just hidden under the layers she, and every other man in the army wore.

Part of him was disgusted with himself for noticing her fierce beauty. She spent more time with him than her own father, he was practically a substitute. But it was undeniable. He overheard several of the men telling tales of what they would like to do to her behind closed doors. It angered him so much that he usually wound up eating outside in the cold alone where he wouldn’t have to hear it.

He wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed that the men were talking about her in that way, or if he, himself wanted to do the exact same things to her as well.

He wanted to ask her why the fuck she left him, but he already knew. She was a child and she couldn’t be held responsible to execute a full-grown man, even though she did it many times before he fell off that bloody cliff.

It had taken him a while to accept but when he was running through the dark hallways watching her fight off those dead fucks he knew at that very moment that he cared about her. Maybe even loved her, fuck he didn’t know.

Love. What a stupid fucking concept. Maybe he really was a dog. Getting beaten and left for dead only to come back licking her heels. And who could ever love him? A big, ugly, mutilated fucker with no money and no keep to offer her. He barely could afford the clothes on his back much less a home and the guarantee of food in her belly.

He turned his head to look back at her. She sat erect on her horse looking straight ahead. He must’ve been staring a while because she turned and looked at him with those owlish valaryan steel-colored eyes.

“The fuck are you looking at me all the time?” She asked. She wasn’t angry per say, she sounded more annoyed than anything.

“You should put snow on that eye, girl,” he said. “It will bring the swelling down.”

Arya rolled her eyes and turned her head back forward, robbing Sandor the pleasure of looking into her grey eyes.

“You’re worried about my health when we both plan on dying,” she snorted.

Sandor forced his eyes away from her and looked ahead at the snowy trail ahead of them. “Not worried about your fucking health, girl. I’m worried we’ll cause attention to ourselves with a young thing in boy’s clothes and a black eye,” he growled.

Arya yawned and patted her black horse’s neck. “They’ll think I was a boy who just got into a scrap. It’s not hard to believe.”

Sandor barked out a laugh. “A blind man can see that you are a woman grown, girl. And you better get used to it. Men south of the wall don’t know who you are. You are no longer the King of the North’s little sister. You are just another cunt for them to put their cocks.”

“If I fought off White Walkers I can fight off some horny, drunk Dornnish men,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sandor chuckled, “No doubt. But all the same I’d rather not draw any more attention to ourselves than necessary.”

They rode in silence for a few more moments before Arya finally spoke.

“What do you mean a blind man can see a I’m a woman grown?”

Sandor gripped the straps of his reigns tighter.

“The fuck you mean? Look at you,” he grumbled.

He felt Arya’s eyes still on him, when he didn’t say anything else she huffed out a sigh causing him to finally look.

“Well? Go on,” she insisted.

Having had enough he glared at her, “You may wear men’s clothes and wield that sword like a man, but you most-definitely look like a woman. You have tits and an ass now and your face is different.”

She just stared at him like he had grown another head. She quickly turned back to the trail and he could see her ears turning red. He burst out laughing.

“Oh, did I embarrass the lady?”

Arya grabbed a piece of snow from a tree branch she was passing by and chucked it at him. At the last moment he jerked his head and the flying piece of snow missed him by an inch.

“I am not a lady you miserable shit. And the last thing I need is having your ugly face staring at me the way every other fucking man does in that pathetic wildling army,” she spat.

Sandor chuckled and turned, “a good thing you didn’t fuck any of them either. If you did, you would be strapped to a horse right now and heading north of the wall with the lot of them.”

 “Why would they do that?”

Sandor pulled an apple out of his saddlebag and took a bite.

“When they find a woman they like they keep her,” he said between bites. “If she doesn’t want him, she and the man fight. The first person that gets knocked on their back gets to decide where she ends up,” he explained with a mouthful of apple.  

She laughed once and looked ahead, “sounds more civilized than being traded off like some horse.”

He looked back over her, his eye’s raking over her body. Gods he was fucked. He knew that he would follow her anywhere now. Now that she joined him willingly she was just going to have to endure the fact he would be in her shadow for the rest of his days. Which wouldn’t be much longer.

“Aye, well you wont have to worry about either because we’ll both be dead,” he said.

 

**xxxxxxxx**

 

They had made a fair distance for the day and decided to avoid theft from other travelers by setting up their camp far off the designated trail. The wind was picking up and was becoming increasingly colder. Sandor knew tonight would be a cold one and by looking the wolf-bitch, she knew it too.

“We shouldn’t set up a fire in case others come,” he said.

Arya looked up from her unraveling her bedroll.

“Fine then we’ll have to sleep next to each other to keep warm. Come on then,” she said gesturing with her arm noncommittally.

Sandor inwardly groaned. His palms were sweating like some green boy when she said that. Whenever he dealt with her now it was as though she had cast some spell on him like the red woman.

He grit his teeth and unrolled his bedroll next to hers. He should not be nervous about something as miniscule as laying next to her. He did it hundreds of times when they were traveling through the Riverlands. But he knew this was different. She was a child then and a woman now.

His heart pounded as he sat down next to her. She handed him a piece of salted pork and reached over his lap to grab the wine skin from his hands, her arm brushing against his thigh. He ate the pork slowly; savoring it for he knew their food was going to be gone by next week.

He watched as she took a long pull from the wine and capped the lid, handing it back to him. Sandor shoved the rest of the pork into his mouth and took an equally long pull from the skin. He was going to need a lot of wine to get through the night.

He suddenly realized if they lay like they did years ago that they would be back to back. Meaning that little peach shaped ass of hers would be pressed against his back. His cock twitched at the thought and he needed to distract himself.

“Did the little bastard blacksmith shit find you?” He asked.

“What?” Arya looked at him with wide eyes.

“The blacksmith. He was looking for you the night all those fucking morons were celebrating and made him king of Storms End,” he said.

Arya quickly looked away and reached for the wineskin again, her arm brushing over his as she did.

“Aye,” she said before uncapping the skin and taking a swig. “He did.”

Her voice gave away something strange he thought. It sounded fiercer and rougher.

 “Well, what did the little shit want?” he asked.

She looked angry with him for a moment. She looked like she was going to tell him to fuck off and that what was her business was her business and he didn’t need to know. But at the last second she looked tired and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. He understood. Sometimes he grew tired of constantly having to snap at people and just wanted to… be.

“He asked me to marry him,” she said finally.

Sandor’s jaw hung open and he stared at her. He couldn’t think of anything to say at all except, “Congratulations,” in a sarcastic tone. 

She laughed once and rolled her eyes taking another swig of wineskin she plucked from his fingers. “I said no.”

Sandor sat still and waited for her to continue. When she didn’t say anything further he prodded for more information. “Well?”

Arya didn’t look at him when she answered, “Well what?”

He grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him.

“Why did you say no? You would’ve made your sister happy – “

“Fuck Sansa,” she interrupted jerking her chin away from his grasp, but he just continued.

“– you would be the great lady war hero. You could train your own army, you could have a house and a keep,” Sandor paused for a moment before he continued. “You would have that winging little shit who would eat horse shit for you if you asked him.”

To his extreme pleasure, Arya snorted and looked up at him, “all those things might impress my sister but an assassin has little need for any of that shit.”

Sandor chuckled, “I didn’t think your sister would like a blacksmith as a husband.”

“No, she wouldn’t. I don’t think he would like her either,” she said quietly.

“Why?”

Arya got up and brushed crumbs off her jerkin from the roll she consumed moments ago. She looked at him and quietly, almost embarrassedly said, “Because he’s in love with me.”

He looked up at her from the ground.

“and what about you?” he asked.

“I’m no one.” She answered.

She quickly turned around and walked to her horse and started rummaging around in her saddlebags pointedly ignoring him.


	2. Arya

Arya lay quietly on her side staring at nothing but snow. After she told Sandor that Gendry was in love with her it was as though he was purposefully trying to ignore her. He was the one who asked about all that shit anyway. If he didn’t want to know the answer he shouldn’t have asked. Why should it matter to him anyways? It’s not like he had anything to say about her relationships.

Fuck, relationship? Is that what she and Gendry had? Honestly, she didn’t really think it through entirely when she showed up in front of him asking him to fuck her. She just wanted to know and understand what all the fuss was about. When it was over and she began to fight the dead, she never thought she was going to make it out alive let alone have to respond to a marriage proposal.

She didn’t love him, that much she new for certain. She felt a bad when she declined but she knew a man like Gendry needed someone good to love. He was sweet and kind and her friend, but most of all he was much better than her. She was sad to leave him behind. Arya was not good. After all the people she had killed she would never be good again.

Neither was the man who’s back she was lying against. She felt the muscles in his back rise and fall against her own. Gods, when she first saw him in Winterfell she forgot just how big he really was. He had changed since she last saw him. His beard had grown thicker with the winter, his hair darker, and he was bigger, if that was even possible. In those years he must’ve done even more physical labor because his chest and arms had expanded considerably.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t miss him. She liked his snapping and snarling at people for no reason. She liked how mean he was to others who were annoying with little to no regard for civility. She was sick of Lords and Ladies backstabbing each other. She liked his truth. No matter what horrible things had happened, he never lied to her. Not like her brother about the Queen being his aunt, not like Sansa about the note she wrote about her “beloved Geoffrey.”

She liked the Hound and that’s why she followed him when she saw him pack his bags on that horse. Every moment she had with him now was a mutual understanding of what the next steps were to be. She was so sick of civility. She needed the Hound’s savageness to keep her happy. He made her happy.

She quickly dug her fingernails into her palms. She didn’t want to think about how he made her happy now. Gods, he was the Hound for fuck sake. A Lannister dog who helped protect the shit that killed her father. She should stick a sword through his throat and be done with it.

She knew she would never kill him. Even when he fell off that cliff in the Vale, it would’ve been so easy, but she couldn’t. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with her when it came to the hound, but she somehow knew he would be by her side when she was going to kill Cersei.

Arya winced as she felt the high collard jerkin rub against the bruises on her neck. The Night King held onto her throat so hard that she didn’t think she would have the strength to stab him as hard as she did. She saw the purple and black spots in the shape of a hand on her neck that very night and they only progressively got worse and worse.

She reached out in front of her and grabbed a handful of snow and placed it on her neck and cussed under her breath when she felt the slightest pressure against her injured neck.

Suddenly, she felt the Hound stir and sit up.

“What’s wrong?”

Damn, she forgot what a light sleeper he was, probably a good trait to have when you are in the business savagery. No doubt he learned it from the decades of training and protection with the Lannisters.

“Nothing, go back to sleep,” she answered.

“The fuck you doing?” He growled clearly annoyed that she woke him from his drunken state of sleep.

“I said nothing – let go!” she snarled as he grabbed her by the forearm and yanked her into a sitting position with her other hand still pressing the ice to her neck. 

Sandor’s hand came to her chin and yanked her head up to see what she was doing with her neck. She winced as the skin was pulled taught causing even more discomfort.

“Let me see,” he said.

“It’s nothing, its just a bruise from the Night King,” she said trying and failing to yank her chin away from his grasp.

“You should’ve gone to the measter, girl. He would’ve made this heal faster,” he lectured.

“I don’t need the fucking measter for a bruise!” she yelled finally yanking her chin away from his massive hand.

Although it was dark out she could see him glaring at her with his brown eyes. His big arm had fallen to her lap without either of them noticing until she felt him pull it away.

“Your neck looks like shit,” he said. “If you don’t ice it properly you will be useless for fighting. If you can’t turn your neck properly Cersei will have your bowels on your boots before you even get through the gates.”

Arya huffed out a sigh trying to remember her training from Braavos in acting calm when you felt rage.

“As I said before, it’s a bruise. We still have weeks of traveling. It will heal before we get there.”

Sandor began rearranging himself on his roll and grabbed a fist full of snow and then reached for her arm. She quickly dodged his reach and was ready to get up if he grabbed at her again.

Sandor rolled his eyes, “Let me see it, girl. If you’re going to be a stubborn bitch and not go see a measter I want to make sure it gets iced properly.”

When she didn’t move he got even more impatient, “I am not going to have my head lopped off saving you because you were being a brat. Now come’ ere,” he snarled grabbing her by the front of her jacket and yanking her forward.

Arya sighed and sat next to with his thigh pressing against her own. His hand wound into her hair and moved her head back so he could access her neck. Arya sat very still and willed her pulse not to increase any further. Gods, with his massive paw in her hair and his thigh warming her entire body she actually felt hotter.

“Move your head, I’ll do the side of your neck,” he said quietly.

Arya pressed her ear to her shoulder as he worked the ice over the bruising skin. He was surprisingly gentle and caused her minimal extra pain. He then did the other side and then asked her to turn around so he could access the back of her neck.

“Why’d you say no? “Sandor asked suddenly.

Arya squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t know what he was asking this now. Or why he cared even. Most importantly she didn’t know why she answered him honestly.

“I’m not a lady. I never have and never will, that’s not me…”

She paused waiting for him to say something, when he didn’t she quietly added, “…and I don’t love him.”

Sandor didn’t say anything at first and after a few moments he spoke again,

“He still thinks you’re still a young maiden girl who needs a title then he doesn’t know you very well, girl.”

He let his hand drop from her neck and she shivered from the cold water dripping down her neck and back.

“We’re done with this for now. We should do it every night until the bruising lightens. Get some sleep.”

With that he turned his back and slumped back to his bedroll.

Arya lay back down and tried to slow her pulse but all she felt were his hands on her skin until she fell into a deep slumber.


	3. Sandor

Sandor woke up to a splitting headache and a dry mouth. He was surprised to find himself as warm and well slept as he was.

He then realized that throughout the night he must’ve rolled over in his sleep because his nose was buried in the wolf-bitch’s hair. His left arm was wound around her mid-section pressed with his forearm pressed directly under her small breasts. One of her legs was pushed back between his own with the back of her thigh pressed firmly against his crotch. Her tiny hand was clutching his arm with her forearm resting against his own.

Over the last few weeks the two had slept back to back almost every night. Winter was truly here and they felt its wrath. The days were bearable, but the only way either of them got through it was talking to one another, which neither were great at. He asked her to keep his mind busy one day and tell him what she went through when he fell off that bloody cliff. At first she refused but after a few days she finally agreed because the cold was too much to bear. It took her a few days but after she was finished she asked Sandor the same thing.

He knew they grew closer over the last few weeks as their days were mostly filled with friendly banter and sometimes laughter.

He ended the past week’s nights with him icing her neck for her. Really it was unnecessary after the first few nights as the bruising was already pretty much healed, but he didn’t care. Any excuse to touch her he would take. He enjoyed her company immensely and he never wanted her to leave his side, until right about this exact moment.

He didn’t know how he was going to extract himself from this situation with any sense of decorum, hells he didn’t even think he wanted to. Her body was molded into his so perfectly with her tight little arse pressed up against his cock. She was small, but by no means weak. He could feel the muscles from years of training in her back and legs.

He pressed his nose a little more firmly into her tresses and inhaled deeply. She smelt of pine and leather. He actually had to stop himself from groaning out loud.

When he felt his cock beginning to harden he knew he had to untangle himself from the little woman before he did something he would regret. He carefully lifted his arm away from her and was delighted to find it difficult to extricate his wrist from her clutch. When he finally pulled away from her and sat up he looked down at her.

She was beautiful when she looked to be at peace. But she was also beautiful when she was snapping and snarling at him. Come to think of it, he still felt a burning between his legs when she barred her teeth at him. He had to admit seeing her fire and lashing out at him did things to his body. She was still a tiny little thing. In his dreams last night he imagined what it would feel like to have his hands around her hips as she rode him like a stallion.

Disgusted with himself, Sandor quickly pushed those thoughts from his head and left their small tent. He was even more disgusted when he felt his cock twitch. The last thing he needed right now was to have fantasies about being buried in her cunt when he was only a few weeks of travel with her. They still had weeks to go and he needed to keep a distance if there was any chance of him keeping his hands off her.

He looked down and saw that his manhood was already getting harder and harder by the second. Fuck it, he needed release before she woke or this would be an awkward start to a morning.

He quickly tuned and walked further into the trees for privacy in case she woke before he finished, although he knew this wouldn’t take long.

Once he could just barely see the little wolf, Sandor began unlacing his breeches and pulling his cock out. He hid behind a tree, closed his eyes, and began to stroke himself. He imagined his calloused hand was not his own and was instead softer and smaller. He then imagined her on her knees in front of him with her big, grey eyes looking up at him with her lips wrapped around his cock.

Sandor grunted and picked up the pace of his hand. He peeked around the tree he was hiding behind and saw the wolf-girl had risen. She was sitting with her back to him sharpening her sword. She clearly did know he was there so he continued to stare at her while he touched himself.

He just imagined her on her hands and knees, naked, that sweet arse up in the air, looking up at him over her shoulder with her eyes hooded with lust. He imagined her begging for him to touch her and – Sandor couldn’t even finish his fantasy as he suddenly spilled his seed onto the forest floor. He growled and stuffed his cock back into his breeches. Fuck sake it was going to be a bitch to get that picture out of his head.

He stomped his way back to the girl that started his little walk. She was still sharpening her sword and didn’t even turn around or look up to acknowledge his presence. When he reached the camp he looked down at her, wishing she wore looser clothing so he could look into her cleavage.

Finally, she stopped her movements and looked up at him with those big grey eyes and he froze. It was exactly what he saw in his fantasy except she had a sword in her hand instead of his cock.

“The fuck are you looking at?” she asked confusedly.

Sandor came to a loss and had nothing to say. He snorted at how pathetic he was being and turned to his back to her and began rolling up his bedroll.

Fucking hells, this was going to be a long trip.


	4. Arya

Arya noticed right away that the Hound was acting strange. As soon as she woke up he was gone. At first she thought he had left but she saw his horse tied to the same tree. Probably went off to take a shit. When he came back he refused to look at her in the eye or speak to her. Even a few hours into their ride he hadn’t so much as mumbled or cursed at her for anything.

Arya sighed loudly. As tiring as it was to constantly fighting with him, it did entertain her immensely. It honestly made her day a little brighter when he would throw funny insults at her and she would throw them right back at him.

She felt the Hound’s eyes on her once again and she turned to look at him.

“You’re in a fouler mood than usual,” she said.

He snorted and turned away from her, “Aye, I thought when you left me to die in the Vale I wouldn’t have to hear your constant questioning.”

“I didn’t leave you to die,” she mumbled so low she really didn’t even hear it.

Sandor whipped his head back around.

“What?”

Arya thanked the Gods her hair was covering her ears as they were turning bright red.

“Nothing,” she mumbled looking straight ahead.

Fuck she should’ve just let the ignoring continue. It was much easier than him knowing the truth.

“You said you didn’t leave me,” he said. “Sure as shit felt like you did when I felt the flies feasting on my flesh and maggots growing in my wounds.”

Arya took a peek at him and saw that he looked livid. She just glared back at him. 

“You were the one that left me you arrogant asshole!” Arya felt her voice rise but she didn’t do anything to stop it this time. Fuck her Braavos training.

“Oh aye? Explain that!?” Sandor yelled right back.

Both of them had stopped their horses and were facing each other now.

“You didn’t have to fight Breanne, but you did anyways, you had no reason to. You could’ve beat her if you had just listened to me about that wound on your neck! It was stupid and dangerous and selfish to attack her.”

She knew she should stop while she was behind but continued, “And then you get yourself thrown off a cliff? Who left who here, you fucking idiot? I stayed with you for 3 days, without any food or drink.” 

She saw Sandor looked shocked so she lowered her voice and in an almost embarrassed tone she finished her piece, “I saw those old men coming towards us and I ran. I didn’t want to be raped or killed over a corpse. I thought they would just kill and then rob you anyways. I wouldn’t have been able to stop them so I left.”

Sandor stared at her for three heartbeats before he shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. Arya turned for the path and began riding forward again not wanting to look at him any longer.

After a few moments of silence Sandor finally spoke up, “They weren’t thieves or rapists. They nursed me back to health.”

Arya looked down at the reigns in her hands and quietly said, “I’m glad.” 

They both were quiet for the remainder of the day. Arya kept looking at the trail ahead not wanting to speak, as she was afraid she’d reveal more weaknesses. She knew he was a weakness and was unsure of what would happen when she or Sandor were killed by one of Cersei’s guards.

The thought of the two brothers squaring off made her blood boil. She knew where he was going from the moment she saw him riding away from the gates of Winterfell. She knew he was leaving her to kill his brother. She figured it would be easier to kill the Mountain with two people rather than just one. She hated the idea of the Hound going at it alone, although she would never tell him that.

Sandor finally spoke up interrupting her thoughts, “It’s late, girl, we’ll set up camp here.”

Arya looked at the sun still high in the sky.

“We can bide. The sun wont set for at least another two hours,” she argued.

Sandor brought his horse to a sudden stop.

“Aye, and I don’t want to set up camp in the fucking dark again,” he barked.

Arya sighed and nodded, although she really thought they could travel another hour or two, she didn’t feel like fighting with him right now. Surprisingly, the silence made her more tired than the previous days had.

As soon as the camp was set up and the fire lit, Arya began to walk away wordlessly. She could feel his eyes on the back of her head, but he said nothing. She needed to get her mind of off the impending death and focus on something else.

She began training, stabbing and whipping her sword though the air in the various movements she learned in Braavos. She didn’t know how long she was training; however, her forehead was dripping with sweat when she heard leaves crunching behind her.

She whipped around only to see to men, clearly hunting grouse as they had three dead ones on a stick and both were carrying bows. Arya quickly noted only one of them had a sword.

“Oi, Charlie look it here,” the one with the dead grouse said. “What’s a pretty little thing out here for?”

Arya stayed still. It was almost comical how many men had used these lines only to have their throat slit by her needle, and how similar they all looked. Pathetic.

Arya sheathed her needle. She already had her fill of sword training today, now she needed to brush up on her hand-to-hand combat.

She knew she had to get their weapons away from them first before she could even take them down. She walked strait up to the man with the sword and punched him in the nose. When he staggered she grabbed the other man by his hair and slammed his face into her knee. She then went back to the other man and took his sword, and in one clean movement she slit the man with the bow’s neck. She then turned to see the man with the now bleeding and broken nose holding a dagger.

“You little shit,” he spat. “I’m going out this through your fucking neck and while you choke on my blade I’ll rape you bloody.”

Arya smiled sweetly at him, dropped the heavy sword, and opened her arms.

“Go on then,” she said simply.

The man was slow and not to mention a amateur when it came to his knife skills. She easily ducked and darted out of his feeble attempts to cut her. He did however best her when she walked backwards into overgrown tree root and fell on her ass. Before she could look up the man was straddling her with his knife to her throat.

“Move, and you fucking die,” he growled.

He then began to undo her belt and as soon as his eyes were away from hers she grabbed the knife and shoved it off her neck onto the ground, still grasped in both their hands, the point of the knife facing the sky.

She grabbed him by the back of his head at the same time her legs kicked his feet high the air and slammed his head into the knife. The man fell limp on top of her, dead.

Arya was panting as she shoved the dead man off of her and grabbed her needle. As she was attaching her sword back to her belt she heard loud footsteps coming towards her that she recognized easily.

“The fuck are you doing?!” Sandor roared.

Arya looked at the giant man walking towards her, she finished buckling her sword belt when he reached her.

“I was training and they tried to attack me,” she said plainly.

“How the fuck did they get your sword?” He asked

“I took it off, I haven’t trained hand to hand in a long time,” she said.

Sandor looked at her furious.

“So you practice in real time? Rather than getting one of the hundreds of men that would be willing in Winterfell?” he grabbed her by her shoulders and continued, “You practice with real men that are trying to rape you?”

 Arya rolled her eyes and shoved his big meaty hands away from her.

“They wouldn’t have done anything.,” she said. “They were weak and poorly skilled.”

Sandor ran his hand through his hair and looked down at her in disbelief.

“You really are trying to get killed aren’t you, girl?” he asked, exasperated.

She rolled her eyes and knelt down to the dead body and began rifling through his pockets.

“They have some dead birds we can eat. As well as a piece of shit sword and bow we can sell in the next town for food,” she offered.

Sandor stood still for a few more moments staring at her.

“Well? Are you going to make me do all the work?” she demanded.


	5. Sandor

Sandor watched as the young wolf rummaging around in the pockets of the men she just killed. One of them was cut in a perfect straight line from ear to ear and the other had a dagger sticking out of his left eye.

How in seven hells had she done this on her own? She was so small and these men were double her weight, easily.

He realized that her idiotic water dancing combined with her training in Braavos must’ve done her well. He knew she was a good little assassin from the stories he heard in Winterfell about killing over a dozen of the Frey’s as well as her execution of Littlefinger, he just never thought she would have the proper fighting for more than one man attacking her at once.

He supposed it was a moronic thought to have. She did after all kill the Night King with nothing but the bruising on her neck to show for it.

“Get those birds and we’ll cook them back at the fire,” she said.

He looked over at the wolf-bitch who was knelt down counting the coin she stole off the man with the knife in his eye.

He had to admit he was in awe of her. Had someone told him those many years ago while they were wandering around in the Vale that they would end up here, together, killing men that cross them, and on their way to kill the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, he would have thought them mad. She was a full-blown killer now and he had to accept that.

But he didn’t want her to turn into a ruthless mean old shit like him. He wanted her to stay good and not have her spirit tainted by this world. He needed to make sure that didn’t happen. She may have been hardened to the dangers of the world, and that was fine. But he refused to allow her soul to be darkened like his.

Sandor walked over the man with the slit throat and grabbed the grouse hanging off a stick. He began to walk back to their camp with the little wolf and he stopped to look at the man with a knife in his eye. Something familiar about it, but he couldn’t place it.

“What?’ Arya asked.

Suddenly Sandor remembered where he saw this. It was with his wolf-bitch years ago. When she was determined to get her needle back from the Lannister soldiers in that tavern and they were attacked after Sandor refused to let them have her. She had killed the annoying little cunt who wouldn’t shut the fuck up, while he was rolling around on the ground with the other solider who was trying to stab him with a dagger. He had slammed the man’s head into a knife just as she had no doubt moments ago.

Sandor’s head snapped to the little heathen before him. She was staring at him eyebrow raised, clearly confused. She didn’t remember his actions but she remembered the fighting skill he used to kill the man and applied it today. He was actually quite proud of her. She learned a skill he taught her and she executed it perfectly. He was happy that she learned something from him other than rage and bitterness.

Sandor chuckled at her and shook his head. He continued forward without answering her question.

That night, after their bellies were full and the wine was almost emptied they sat by the fire. Waiting for sleep to come. Arya was half-laying down with her back cushioned on a fallen rotting tree and her arms crossed over her chest for warmth. Sandor sat on the cold ground leaning back on his hands with his feet close enough to the fire to feel the warmth, but far enough away to feel comfortable. Anytime he was too close to a fire he felt Gregor’s hand on his face pushing his head into the flames of their family fireplace from many years ago.

Arya was staring pensively into the fire clearly lost in thought. He wanted to hear what she was thinking as she looked like she was contemplating something.

“You going to tell me what bug has crawled up your arse or are you just going to sit there like a fucking mute?” he asked.

She looked up at him with her thick eyebrows furrowed. “It’s none of your concern,” she snapped.

Neither of them spoke again for another hour or so. Sandor actually was about to crawl onto his bedroll when she finally spoke again. 

“Do you trust the Targaryan Queen?” she asked.

Sandor huffed and sat up off his elbows throwing a twig into the roaring fire. “No. She’s probably just as crazy as every other fucking Targaryan.”

Arya sat up and grabbed a stick, digging a hole in the snow furiously. She was clearly annoyed about something.

“Go on then, girl. Why are you asking this now? Isn’t it a Lady’s duty to accept the leader her brother deems appropriate?”

Arya snorted and threw the stick into the fire.

“The only reason he’s pledged the North to her is because he’s in love with her,” she said bitterly. 

“And you don’t want the North to go to anyone else but a Stark,” Sandor summarized.

Arya laughed once and looked up at him over the flames, “I could give two shits over who rules the Seven Kingdoms. I just don’t want my brother to be murdered in his sleep while warming that woman’s bed.”

There were rumors that the Bastard and the white haired queen were fucking, many in fact. Although nothing was ever confirmed, as they weren’t married, it would be considered a scandal.

“So add the crazy bitch to your little list,” he said.

She shrugged and got up to walk over to her bedroll.

“Might do,” she said.

Sandor also got up and got into his bedroll but then thought better of it. The night air was getting colder by seconds. He could see his breath and felt the winds were picking up as well. He instead began to walk to the fire to add three logs, hoping that it would keep them warm enough that he wouldn’t have a repeat of this morning. Although, he had to admit he wouldn’t mind terribly if he woke in morning curled around the little wolf for warmth.


	6. Arya

Arya couldn’t stop shivering if she tried. It was so bloody cold and there was only so much a fire could do. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Sandor was also shivering with his back to her. She sighed and knew she would have to make the first move; he was always stubborn as a mule. 

She rolled over and grasped his shoulder, shaking it roughly.

“The fuck you doing?!” Sandor growled at her.

“I know you aren’t sleeping,” she said. “You’re just as cold as I am and I would rather be killed by Cersei’s guards than the cold. Come here,” she demanded.

When Sandor didn’t move she propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at him. She was tired, cold, and done being civil about anything. She refused to lose a fight in the future because she was too fucking tired to hold her sword up.

“Or if you prefer we can continue to lose sleep throughout our journey and lose the fight. I’m sure our head will look lovely on spikes while the birds pick at our eyes,” she said angrily.

After a few moments Sandor finally rolled over onto his side facing her. He lifted his blanket and opened his arms. She crawled into his embrace with her back pressed against his chest. He threw his furs and her own over them. One of his arms slid under her head as a pillow and the other lightly around her midsection.

Arya immediately felt the warmth from his large body. Gods, there was so much of him. It was like there was heat radiating from everywhere he touched. His big arm was heavy against her side and she felt his warm breath on her neck. The backs of her thighs were still cold so she straightened out to have them pressed against his own.

She felt him inhale deeply and let out a huff of air. His arm constricted around her tighter, pressing her even closer to his chest and belly. Arya tried her best not to think of where her buttocks were pressed.

“Get some sleep, little wolf. It’s going to be a very cold fucking night,” he said thickly.

Arya didn’t respond. She just felt his heat turn her bones into jelly and let the drowsiness take over her. The last thing she felt before she fell into a deep slumber was his arm tighten even further into a bone crushing embrace. 

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

 

Arya woke several times in the night with her face and nose freezing but she refused to roll over in his arms. On the third time however she knew if she didn’t, the frost would blacken her nose.

So with that she begrudgingly turned her body so she could press her face to his chest. The rest of her was warm enough as his massive body covered every inch of her. His arm was still tightly wrapped around her and in warmed her to her core. She couldn’t help but nuzzle her face into his chest greedily soaking up his heat.

She thought back to why she told him about her concerns with her brother. She didn’t need to but it still angered her that her brother could be so easily manipulated. She knew if that white-haired bitch did anything to hurt her brother she would cut off her head and show it to her so-called “people.” They weren’t even her people anymore. They were her brothers. They didn’t give a shit about the Queen they loved Jon. Arya couldn’t help but smile at that, the fact that this woman came in with her stupid fucking dragons and thought she could buy the love of the Northerners, what a stupid fucking cunt. She could never understand what it truly meant to be a Northerner. Fuck her and her bloody dragons.

Arya felt the Hound’s arm move up her back and placed his giant hand against her should blades. In his sleep he also had his nose buried in the top of her hair for warmth as well.

It annoyed her that she found pleasure in being held. She never felt that about Gendry even when she was naked with in his bed with him.

She sighed and tried to stop her thoughts before they got away from her. She closed her eyes and tried to finally get the sleep she needed to kill anyone who got in her, or the Hound’s way. 

 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Arya woke unusually early in the morning with the Hound still asleep. The sun was just beginning to rise in the east shining just over the horizon. A flock of birds squabbled as they flew over her through the snow covered tree tops. There wind was not as powerful as it was throughout the night but it was there, lifting the furs that were secured tightly around her body.

She wasn’t particularly cold at all, in fact, she was almost too hot and wanted to shuck off the heavy bearskins that covered her. When she finally opened her eyes she realized that it wasn’t because of the said furs necessarily, it was that her face was buried in between Sandor’s prickly beard and neck. Her leg was hitched around his hip and arm was curled around his of his shoulder. One of his arms still acted like a pillow for the side of her head, but the other was curled around her leg with his hand clutching the back of her thigh. 

She had to admit that this position warmed her in ways she was not about to admit. She needed to get away from him immediately. However, when she moved she felt something hard touch the inside of the thigh that rested against his hip.

She froze instantly. Having been traveling in fleets with men and being with Gendry for that one auspicious night she knew exactly what that was.

She recognized that this is what most men experience in the morning but she hadn’t expected it from him for some reason. He seemed like such a boulder of a man that rarely lost focus of the task at hand nor had any desire for distractions. This seemed out of character for a man that snarled and snapped at her all day and night.

She quickly erased those thoughts from her head and knew this was just the way men were. It had nothing to do with feelings or any ninny womanly things that her sister would’ve been easily susceptible to. She chastised herself for acting like a stupid girl and tried to untangle herself from his large body without rousing him.

She wrapped her skinny fingers around his thick wrist and lifted his heavy arm away from her leg. She then strategically placed her arm the ground between them and lifted her self off and away from him. He grumbled something unconsciously and then rolled onto his back as she placed the furs back over his body so he wouldn’t be stirred by the cold.

She made her way back to their horses with the intention of having them fed before he rose. Stranger was notoriously known for refusing to be touched by anyone but his master, so she held out an apple for him and waited. At first the horse chuffed and nickered angrily at her. When she continued to hold steadfast he approached her cautiously. She knew the horse would have to remember her as they spent all those years together on his back with the Hound. Stranger grabbed the apple from her hand while keeping a watchful eye on her.

Arya decided to take a chance and grabbed the feedbag Sandor had prepared the previous night. At first the horse did not move, but then after five heartbeats he approached her and lowered his head. Arya smile in victory and placed the bag over his ears and he ate happily. She carefully reached her hand out and touched the stallion’s mane. When he didn’t move she let her other hand run along his neck. The horse nickered again and this time he seemed to enjoy her touch. She couldn’t help let her smile widen. Finally, after years of hating her, the horse had finally warmed up to her.

“I think that’s the first time he’s ever let anyone touch him with out trying to trample them to death,” Sandor said behind her.

Arya jumped, startled at first, and then annoyed he had intentionally crept up behind her just to scare her.

“He’s a mean old shit like his master,” she said unlacing her fingers from his mane and moving aside to tend to her own horse.

“Aye, that’s what’s kept him alive for so long,” he mumbled thoughtfully.

Arya wrapped her arms around her horse after she gave him his feedbag. Her stag was warm and she buried her face in his fur and closed her eyes, ignoring the Hound completely. She ran her fingers over his mane and cooed in his ear causing him to whinny happily.

“You keep spoiling your horse like that he’s going to refuse to move the way you need him,” Sandor lectured as he walked over to his own and scratched him behind the ears.

When Arya didn’t respond he continued, “And you’ll be all pissy when you have to leave him somewhere or he dies on you in battle.”

Arya lifted her face from the horse and gave him a long look. For all the years they traveled together she saw glimpses of who Sandor truly was. She saw him whisper things in Stranger’s ears and stroke him for long periods of time and nuzzle his face into the horse’s neck. She knew more than anyone that if there was anything that Sandor loved, it was his horse, even if he couldn’t admit it himself.

“You would be pissy too if the same thing happened to Stranger,” she said.

Sandor snorted, “I would be pissy to have to go through the hassle in finding another horse that can carry a big fucker like me.”

Sandor took off the feeding mask and began to stow it away in his saddlebags.

Arya walked around her horse over to Stranger. She gently lifted her hand and placed in on the horse’s neck. Stranger leaned into her touch and neighed delightfully. Arya couldn’t help the smile that came to her face. She leaned on the very tips of her toes to scratch behind his ears similar to the way Sandor did. The horse leaned down and angled his head to direct her where he wanted to be scratched. The horse grunted loudly in pleasure making Arya laugh once.

She could feel Sandor glowering at her so she stopped and looked back at him.

“Horses are like people. You can be tough with them all you want but eventually they grow on you and you,” she said.

When he didn’t respond she continued,

“You don’t fool me, I saw the way you treated him in the Riverlands.”

“Animals grow on you because they don’t talk back,” he snapped.

“Aye, I couldn’t agree more, that’s why I’ve always liked the company of animals over humans,” Arya shot back. 

“Oh aye? Including that of dogs?” he challenged.

Arya glared at him before turning her back and grabbing her things from the camp.

“Get your shit, we should’ve left here an hour ago if you weren’t wasting our time sleeping all day,” she growled.

Little did he know it was only his company she enjoyed, including her family’s.   


	7. Sandor

Sandor halved the last pieces of stale bread and salted pork they had and handed one half to the wolf-bitch and stuffed the other half in his mouth.

He was ravenous, there was not doubt about that, but they needed to keep moving in order to get to Kings Landing at the same time as her Bastard brother. He couldn’t allow his strength to deplete too much if he was going to cut down his brother where he stood.

He gripped the Stranger’s reigns tighter at the thought of finally putting an end to his monstrous brother. He gripped them even tighter at the thought of watching the wolf-bitch slit the throat of that brother-fucking Lannister Queen.

He had first been guard to Cersei when she was in her late teens. He remembered even back then she was conniving little bitch. Always spinning stories to her father and husband to get other girls in trouble or sometimes even killed. He was sure she wasn’t always to hateful, her father probably drove her into that. He was no winner either. Just another asshole among assholes. Just to spawn more asshole children and asshole grandchildren.

“How will you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?” Arya asked, still sucking the salt off her fingers from the pork.

“Kill her,” Sandor replied grabbing his wine skin and cursing only to find it empty.

“I was going to hang her by her waist naked out of that big tower and carve, ‘The North Remembers,’ into her stomach,” Arya said casually reaching for her water. “But not before I chop off her hands and feet so she can’t weasel her way out of somehow, and watch her bleed to death all over the tower steps she loves to hide behind.”

Sandor surprised himself and barked out a laugh shaking his head. He turned his face to her and saw her trying not to smile herself.

“I’ll give you points for creativity, girl,” he chuckled.

“What about you?” She asked.

“Huh?”

“How are you going to kill your brother?”

“Haven’t really thought about it,” he shrugged.

“You haven’t thought about it at all?” Arya asked in disbelief.

Sandor rolled his eyes, “Course' I thought about it, girl. It’s almost all I think about. I just don’t know how I can kill that… thing. I don’t even know if he’s killable.”

Sandor saw her stare at him in disbelief so he continued, “I meant what I said when I wasn’t planning on coming back. Rumors tell me he’s been stabbed in the neck and chest over a dozen times and he’s still guarding the Queen as we speak.”

Arya looked thoughtful before she spoke, “I supposed lopping off his head would be the way to go, not like he’d be able to see anything even if he did try to attack.”

Suddenly they both burst out laughing at the absurdity of a headless Mountain stumbling around in the tower trying to kill his brother with no head or eyes to see the target.

Sandor looked over at her and saw her take off her glove and wipe away the tears from her eyes from laughing. He wanted to make her laugh again. She was always so serious and angry, never losing sight of her target. He wanted her to be happy and carefree, not having to worry about her shitty family and their people. She was too young and too special to have to have that all on her tiny shoulders.

He realized that he was yet again staring at her smiling like a buffoon he quickly turned back to the trail and spoke gruffly.

“Regardless, it doesn’t matter. You just sneak past him with your water dancing and get to Cersei. Leave him to me.”

Arya huffed out a sigh, “I hardly think you can kill him alone. I’m not an invalid, we can work together to kill him and then– “ 

Arya didn’t even have the chance to finish before Sandor interrupted her with a burning rage.

“- you will do no such thing! You leave that big bastard to me and you get to Cersei. She wont be able to do shit, she’ll have at most three guards. The rest will be ordered to be on the wall. I should know I served under her and her idiot drunk husband for years.”

Gods, the thought of her facing his gruesome brother unnerved him in ways he couldn’t explain. She was so little, even now. There would be no way he could let her near him let alone fight him.

Even last night when he saw her covered in another man’s blood he almost keeled over. He was furious and almost unsheathed his sword but saw both the men were already dead. His heart was racing and when he found out she was just playing with them, like a cat with a mouse. They could’ve seriously hurt her. But when she seemed unfazed by the entire ordeal, he found it… quite... attractive. The way she slayed two men with nothing but her quick feet and fast hands made his blood sing in his ears. When they had got back to the camp feasting on the two men’s supper he was still enamored with her.

He tried to squash the feelings that night when he lay in bed and keeping a far distance from her. But he felt the winds pick up and so did she. So yet again, he had her in his arms in the night. He knew sleeping back to back would not keep her warm so he opened his arms and felt her crawl in. The feeling of having her willingly embraced in his arms was something Sandor could not describe. Nor could he describe the way it felt when he heard her sigh in pleasure at the feeling of him warming her with his body heat. She was warm too. His arm rested on her belly and it radiated heat into his freezing arm.

He remembered not having the strength to stop himself from smelling her hair, he wanted to bathe in it.

Not only that but he forgot just how small she truly was. She had grown a little bit more since she was a child, but now that she was fully grown, he still found she was incredibly tiny for her age of ten and nine. How a woman this small could flay entire armies of the dead and groups of battle worn men was beyond him.

He stayed awake that night, unable to shake the anxiousness that consumed him when he thought what could’ve happened to her that very evening, and that of course led to even more anxiety when he thought of Gregor and Cersei.

He wished he could tell her to turn around and go back. Go and marry that winging little shit and be the lady of Storms End. The blacksmith was her age and could make her happy. He would never hurt her. Not the way Sandor could. She would eat that snivelling little shit alive if he ever tried to put his hands on her without her permission. Sandor smiled at that.

But she was right in what she said before. She didn’t belong in some castle wearing frilly skirts and bowing at some cunt lords and ladies. She belonged on the battlefield hacking down all the men in front of her. And Sandor vowed to be next to her, however long that may be. He anticipated he wouldn’t live the wrath of his brother.

That same night Arya had twisted herself in her sleep. She rolled over in his arms and had pressed herself to his body with her face lodged in his neck unconsciously. He couldn’t believe it when he felt her tiny leg lift and wrap around his thigh and her hand clutch his shoulder. He felt his eyes actually roll into the back of his head as he pressed his face into her hair and inhaling again. Fuck, the wolf-bitch smelt so good. He wanted to bury his hands in her dark hair and kiss her until their lips turned blue. He was going to unwrap herself from him but anytime he tried to move her she would stir. He didn’t want to wake her and go through yet another awkward experience, so he just let her be. Truth be told he didn’t really want to move, so he just kept her right where she was. He even experimentally trailed his hand from the back of her knee up her thigh, but stopped before he could reach that sweet arse of hers.

Sandor was yanked from his memory when Arya spoke, “I think you underestimate my fighting,” she said clearly annoyed that he had dismissed her to killing a moderately defended Queen rather than taking on his brother. 

Sandor suddenly remembered that it was not the night previous and she was still awake. 

“I know you’re a good fighter, girl. But Gregor is going to take more than just your quick sword. He needs to squashed to nothing but guts and bone. You may be strong enough to stab the Night King, but you are not strong enough to do that to Gregor,” Sandor said. He was still reeling from his little fantasy about the wolf-bitch. He needed wine or ale or a good fuck from a whore soon before he lost his mind.  

He decided on the spot that he needed something else to take his mind off the wolf-bitch.

“The next town we see,” he said carefully, "we are going to stop in." 

When she stared at him as if he went mad he quickly explained himself. 

“If I’m going to be killed in Kings Landing I at least want my belly full and more wine on hand. How much you get from those two skinny fuckers?”

Arya contemplated for a minute before answering.

“Enough for a room, food and then some. They were fucking idiots to be carrying around that much gold in the middle of the night. We can also sell their weapons.”

“Good,” said Sandor, “There’s a town not to far from here.”

He felt the wolf-bitch look up at him with curiosity, “Why do you suddenly want to stay at an Inn?”

“What? The lady has another idea? There are no castles nearby for you play in, girl,” Sandor replied annoyed.

 “I mean wouldn’t you rather sleep where there is less danger? Crowded towns are not really that ideal, people will recognize you,” she reasoned.

“I’ll have my hood up. I want to sleep in a proper bed once more before I die,” he lied.

Arya sighed but nodded. He would never tell her that she caused his cock to burn with anticipation that he would never be awarded. So instead he had to settle for some unfortunate wench in a brothel who no doubt would satisfy an itch, but not cure the disease he had in needing his wolf-bitch.


	8. Arya

Arya was concerned why Sandor suddenly wanted to stay at an Inn with good wine and a full course meal. He should be used to eating like shit and not having his fill of Arbor Red by now. It amazed her that even on his way to certain death he could even think of such minor luxuries. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised as he never really had much of anything positive in his life, or at least he thought so. Wine, women, food, and killing have probably been the only thing he ever enjoyed.

Her mind drifted to the days when she would wait outside brothels while he was inside doing gods knows what. She had been disgusted at the time but now the thought of Sandor with another woman made her uncomfortable. She knew that he had been with other women as he was so much older than her. But she wondered what he would be like with the woman. Would he be mean and snarling at them like he was with her? She could never imagine him being nice and sweet like Gendry, getting down on his knee and telling a woman she was beautiful and lovely and how he wanted her hand. She snorted at the thought.

Her thoughts were quickly silenced when she saw the lights of a small village ahead of them.

“Fucking finally,” Sandor grumbled.

As they made their way into town Sandor lifted the hood of his cloak over his head. When they reached what looked to be the only Inn in town they were greeted by an eager stable boy.

“How do you do, ser?” the stable boy asked Sandor.

“I’m no ser, boy. I need two stables for my and my… niece’s horse.”

Arya raised an eyebrow at him angrily. She was still supposed to be a boy and he already fucked that up.

Sandor handed the boy some coin and began walking Stranger to a stable, Arya knew Sandor couldn’t trust his horse to trample the boy when his he was already moody from the long walk.

She looked at the stable boy and realized he was about her age, maybe a bit younger. His hair was blonde like Breanne of Tarth’s but just touched his shoulders. He was obviously handsome. And she could easily tell that by the way he was looking at her that he clearly had no confidence problems when it came to women.

She could see the way he was eyeing her just like every other fucking man did when he saw something that remotely resembled a female. He smiled in a failed attempt in seduction and held out his hand for the reigns. She wanted to roll her eyes at him. But knowing they had to keep a low profile in this town she opted for civility. When she went to hand him her reigns his fingers intentionally brushed over hers.

“Many thanks, milady,” he said.

Arya didn’t smile or acknowledge him. She was about to turn around and walk to the Inn when he spoke suddenly.

“You know how to use that?” he asked nodding towards her sword.

This time it was Arya’s turn to evaluate him. He was only a little bit taller than her. His arms were skinny and his shoulders were sharp, like a woman’s. There was no way this slip of a man (if he could even be call that) knew how to handle a sword. She decided that he was a pretty boy that only wanted pretty women to warm his bed.

She didn’t answer, she just looked at the feeble boy/man in front of her with disgust. Apparently he did not see her face clearly because he continued.

“I mean, I know how to handle a sword and I’m sure your uncle would like some alone time. I can teach you a few things if you want,” he said with a rattlesnake smile.

Arya was just about to tell him where he could shove those lessons but was interrupted by Sandor stomping over and turning the boy around by his shoulders to face his scarred flesh. He grabbed the boy by the front of his jacket and pulled him off the ground so he was nose to nose with the deformed man and his feet dangling at Sandor’s knees.

“Aye, she knows how to use it. Killed two men on our way here, hundreds more before that. If you know what’s good for you, boy, you’ll keep those horseshit-covered hands off her,” he growled menacingly.

Arya’s felt her eyes widen. He actually sounded angry which shocked her. This was an incredibly mild attempt in her opinion. When she was in Braavos she had to quite literally fight off multiple men twice this boy’s size that had tried to rob or rape her.

Sandor dropped the boy to the ground that slipped in the mud and ran to the end of the stables mumbling apologies to him. Arya couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy tripping all over himself try to get away from them. Apparently Sandor thought it was funny as well because she could hear him grunt in amusement as they turned towards the Inn.

“I’m not a child anymore I don’t need your protection from little boys pretending to be men,” she said slightly annoyed.

Sandor chuckled and glanced over his shoulder at the boy behind him.

“Aye, I know, wolf-bitch. I just wanted to see him shit himself,” Sandor snickered.

Arya couldn’t help but smile as well as they entered the Inn.

Behind the front desk sat an old woman who looked like she could be Sandor’s mother. She looked at him in the same annoyance that Sandor looked at anyone who crossed his path.

“Got any rooms?” Sandor asked.

She looked at him up and down in almost disgust. She could clearly see the two were traveling for quite some time and hadn’t bathed in gods knows when.

“One room with two beds,” she answered gruffly.

_Thank the Gods there are two beds_ , Arya thought. She did not want a repeat of the previous night or she would die of embarrassment.

Sandor nodded and threw the money on the counter. Without another word, the old woman grabbed a key underneath the table and slapped it on the surface.

Sandor carried the saddlebags and Arya carried what was left of the food up to their room.

It was small, but it had four walls, a fireplace, and a bed for Arya to lie, so she was happy. Off to the right there was a small room where a bathtub was unceremoniously placed in the corner. The beds had several cheap furs thrown overtop the straw mattresses and the fireplace was a decent size, more than large enough to heat the room. There were two small wooden chairs placed in front of it with an even tinier table placed to the left. The window overlooked the stables where she could see the pretty boy washing his hands in a barrel.

Arya threw the food on the small table by the fireplace and walked over to the window to draw the curtains closed.

She sat down on the bed the furthest away from where Sandor was standing and yawned loudly.

She was tired and longed for a bath, but she didn’t want to do it with the Hound in the next room. The thought of her naked with him some mere feet away form her was too much to even think about.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. How did things get so muddled and confusing? She only had one job, to finish her list, and she couldn’t even do that correctly without a man being a distraction. She was a failure for letting something as trivial as emotions getting her way. She was a horrible assassin and a horrible Braavosian killer.

She wanted to slap herself for being so weak. She wanted Jaqen H'ghar to waltz into the room and beat her with a stick as punishment for her feeble nature. She didn’t deserve the satisfaction of killing the Queen. She deserved to be stabbed by the waif again.

Arya quickly pulled herself together and sat erect on the bed. She would not let this beast of a man effect her any longer. She was going to hold steadfast and true. What was she even thinking? He didn’t want her, he wanted some tavern wench with big tits and long hair that he could use to satisfy his needs and be done with. And She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone. She was alive because she didn’t need the help or company of anyone, let alone the bloody Hound.

Her eyes cast over to the man in question. He was rummaging around in their bags for something with his back turned to her. She glared daggers at his broad shoulders. In that moment she hated him for making her feel fragile. She cursed the day they met and cursed him again when he showed up in Winterfell with Jon.

_Why couldn’t you just stay where you were and leave me to my business?_ She thought angrily.

Arya shot up off the mattress and walked over to the fireplace and began placing logs strategically to make a fire.

“I’m going out for a bit,” she heard him say.

She didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. She just nodded coldly and heard the door open and slam shut.

She inhaled deeply through her mouth and out her nose to calm her anger down, another technique she learned in Braavos.

She would treat this journey to kill the Queen as any other mission that Jaqen assigned her. It was just another job.

She decided she would take a bath and then find a decent meal. She quickly turned and locked the door in case he got back before she was done washing.

The last thing she needed was for him to see her soaking wet and naked in the bathtub.


	9. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm still trying desperately to keep these two characters' personalities with also giving them a loving side. 
> 
> Again, thank you all for the kudos and comments. You guys really make my day! 
> 
> Have a happy weekend everyone! 
> 
>  
> 
> XXXXXXXXXX

 When they entered the room Sandor immediately dumped their bags onto the floor and started counting his coin on hand.

He glanced behind him at the wolf-bitch who was placing logs into the massive fireplace in the far right corner.

“I’m going out for a bit,” he said.

Arya didn’t turn around she just kept putting logs into the fire.

Sandor wanted to grab her by her shoulders and force her to look at him but he instead turned around a slammed the door in frustration.

The night was cold, but not uncomfortably so as he went in search of a brothel. He needed to get rid of this urge to fuck the wolf-bitch senseless, and this was his last resort.

He finally came across a building where scantely clad women were outside laughing with drunken men. One of the women curled her finger at him, beckoning him to come over.

_This is probably it,_ Sandor thought.

He walked passed the woman and through the threshold. He saw a buxom older woman with ginger hair smiling at him, no doubt the madam of the house.

“Hello Mr. what can I help you with?” she asked in a horrendously fake purr.

Sandor had to hand it to Littlefinger, at least he trained his whores to act a lot better than the rest of the Seven Kingdoms.

“I’m not picky,” he said. “Give me anyone you have available.”

“Ooh, a man of many tastes! Let me go find a nice young lady for you,” she practically squealed.

When she retuned Sandor almost shat himself.

There, stood before him, was a petite young woman with short brown hair.

“Uh, no…” he said not sure of what excuse to give. “Anyone taller with anything but short dark hair,” he said quickly. The last thing he needed was to fuck a woman that looked like his wolf-bitch.

The young girl shrugged not looking the least bit concerned as the madam pushed her away. A few moments later she came back with an older blonde woman with massive tits.

“She’ll do,” he said.

The blonde woman took Sandor’s hand and led him into one of the many bedrooms.

The room was covered in red and gold tapastrys. The cheap covers on the bed were probably covered in other men’s sweat and seed. Their were mirrors that covered every corner of the room and Sandor just wanted to smash into pieces. The last thing he wanted to see was his ugly mug fucking a cheap disgusting substitute for what he really wanted.

“So, what is the handsome man interested in today?” the big titted blonde asked.

Sandor was already irritated with this woman.

“No talking,” he said. “Just get on your knees and suck my cock.”

Without any hesitation the whore knelt down and began unlacing his breeches. Sandor looked down at the woman as she put his cock in her mouth. Her moss colored eyes looking up at him. He hated that fucking color. He hated all colors that weren’t the wolf-bitch’s grey colored eyes. He was barely getting hard enough to fuck this wench so he closed his eyes and imagined it was Arya. When he was finally as hard as he was ever going to be with this woman so he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her off his dick.

“Get on the bed and ride me,” he said.

He walked past her and sat on the bed, the woman made quick work of her dress to stand before him naked. Sandor was bored of this already.

“Get on with it then! I have shit to do tonight,” he growled.

The woman got on his lap and began riding him. Sandor left his hands at his side. He didn’t want to touch her anymore than he had to. He could clearly see his scarred face repulsed her. She was also making the most horrific fake noises of pleasure that he tried to ignore. When he finally felt release coming he quickly dumped her onto the floor and came on the bed.

“Was my lord satisfied?” she asked, looking up at him with concern. She was obviously concerned that he wouldn’t pay her.

Sandor didn’t say anything and just chucked some coin on the bed in front of her and walked out of the bedroom lacing his breeches.

He left the brothel in repulsion. Fucking that woman did nothing for him. It did not quench his thirst for the Stark girl. It might have even enhanced it. Fucking this whore made him realize that there was no substitute. Nothing besides Arya next to him would make him happy.

As he walked through the snow he heard a bunch of bawdy men singing war songs coming from what looked to be a nearby tavern. Sandor made a beeline for it. If he wasn’t going to rid the girl from his mind he could at least numb the need with Arbor Red.

He lifted his hood over his head just in case any Lannister soldiers were inside and walked through the threshold.

The place was crowded with a string band playing loudly. Men were swinging women around in front of the stage, barmaids with long flowing skirts were running around filling cups of ale and wine for the men of the village, tables dotted the walls and corners and were filled with men and women singing along to the musicians. Sandor was contemplating leaving, as the place was too big for him to sink deep into his cups in private. But then way in the far left corner sat the very woman he was trying to rid from of his memory.

The wolf-bitch was sitting with her back to the far corner wall overlooking the whole establishment. Her forearms were braced on the table around a bowl of what looked to be stew while she was shoveling it into her mouth by the spoonful. She grabbed the roll that was on a plate next to her and ripped it in half and shoved it into her mouth as well, chewing vigorously.

He made his way over to her without a second thought but stopped in his tracks. Sitting across from her was the stable boy they met earlier on that night. She wasn’t looking at him or really even acknowledging him as she ate, but the boy looked like he was speaking intently with her as he was leaning forward on his elbows halfway across the table. He had a goblet of wine in front of him and drank the remainder of his cup in one go.

Sandor watched Arya roll her eyes at something he said swallowing the mass amount of food she had in her mouth and mumbled something in return before she took a long drink from her goblet.

Sandor stormed up to the table, his eyes never leaving the little wolf’s. When she finally saw him she looked surprised. He was pleased to find that she was also trying not to smile as he approached.

Sandor came up from behind the boy and clapped his hand roughly on his shoulder.

“I thought I made it clear before, boy,” he growled right into his ear. “You touch my wolf and I’ll ring your neck.”

The boy began sputtering apologies and Sandor grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and yanked him off the bench.

“My apologies ser! She was just sitting here all alone. A lady shouldn’t sit here by herself, I mean with all these men, something could happen! I was just looking-“

“-Just looking at her from what I can see,” Sandor snapped. “She can handle herself well enough without your scrawny arms trying to paw away at her. Now get!” Sandor shoved the puny boy away from the table with his foot colliding with the boy’s ass. The boy fell over some stools and some nearby men laughed at the scene.

Sandor then turned to the young woman who caused the whole mess. She was sitting there glaring at him.

“We’re supposed to go through this town unnoticed, you moronic ape,” she snapped.

Sandor walked over to her side of the bench and pushed her over so he could sit next to her.

“What are you doing? Sit over there!” she exclaimed pointing to the other side of the table.

Sandor shoved himself onto the small bench causing her to squish into the corner of the booth.

“I’m not about to sit with my back to the entrance, girl. You should’ve remembered that from our years of traveling together,” he said.

Arya grabbed her food and wine and pulled it closer to her new spot.

“I do remember, that’s why I’m sitting here,” she said.

Sandor could help but grin that she had learned so much from him that she continuously applied in her everyday life.

The barmaid came by and he ordered a flagon of wine and he stew she was eating. He filled his cup with the flagon she already ordered and then grabbed her glass and filled that as well. There was still a considerable amount left which means she must’ve only just got here.

“The fuck you doing here anyway? It’s not safe, you should’ve stayed in the room,” he said as he pulled the goblet to his lips and emptied it in one go.

“Gods, you sound just like that boy. I needed food and I didn’t think I needed your permission to go and eat something,” she said grabbing her spoon and shoveling more stew into her mouth.

The barmaid came by with another flagon and bowl. Sandor nodded his thanks and ate hungrily. He ate much faster than she did so by the she finished her stew, he was done as well. Arya downed the last of her wine and grabbed the pitcher for another glass.

Sandor raised his brow at her. She was such a tiny thing. At the rate she was going she would be falling over drunk within the hour.

He watched as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into the wall looking satisfied.

“The fuck you doing with that little shit anyways?” Sandor growled.

Arya was looking around at the bar when she answered.

“Unlike some people, I didn’t want to cause a scene and get noticed by half the fucking village. He just walked over and sat down, I told him I preferred not to speak and he said, ‘that’s fine because I love to talk.’ He just wouldn’t shut up so I ignored him.”

Sandor chuckled, “Well? What did the young lad have to say to court the lady?”

Arya rolled her eyes and put her finger in the empty stew bowl and scooped up the ruminants from the side before raising it her mouth and sucking the stew off her fingers.

“A bunch of bullshit,” she answered. “Same as every other man.”

Sandor had to admit he liked that she was so dismissive of the handsome young green boy. He was also pleased to watch her continue to suck on her fingers. It was mildly erotic and he only wished he could suck the broth off her fingers for her.

He quickly grabbed the flagon and filled his cup yet again. Arya held out her cup and he raised his brow at her, this time allowing her to see.

“Fuck sake, I thought my septa died years ago,” she growled. “Had I known I had such a shit substitute I would’ve stayed in King’s Landing to die with her,” she growled.

Sandor sighed and filled her cup.

“You set on getting raped tonight, wolf-bitch?” he asked. “Because that is what is going to happen if you get too drunk and can’t find your way home.”

It was a ridiculous notion, really. There was no way he was leaving her alone now that he was here. He would make sure he got back to their room safely, although he still didn’t like that she wandered out alone to a bar filled with horny men.

Arya leaned her elbows on the table and placed her chin in her hands, surveying the drunken crowd in front of them.

“Not raped,” she answered finally. “Drunk, mostly.”

Sandor felt his eyebrows raise for a third time and he regarded her with surprise.

“You were planning on getting drunk tonight?” he asked in amusement.

Arya nodded.

“Have only been drunk twice. First time was awful the second time was okay. Figure I’d give it another go before I die to see if it’s really as great as everyone else in here seems to think,” she answered.

Sandor chuckled. Of all the reasons he thought she’d be in here, getting drunk off her ass was not one of them.

“What was awful about it the first time?” he asked.

Arya laughed once before answering.

“Bran and I got into our fathers cellar and we drank an entire flagon to ourselves. We were vomiting everywhere and our septa beat us with a stick the next day. Our father just found it amusing.”

Sandor chuckled and she continued.

“The second time was in Braavos. After I killed the waif I took my coin and set to sea for Winterfell. Halfway through the trip a few of the men on the ship taught me to play card games and we drank until we passed out,” she finished.

Sandor glared at her.

“You play dangerous games, girl. Those men could’ve–“

“-Their wives were in the same room,” she interrupted. “They wouldn’t have done anything.”

Sandor stretched out his legs under the table. His thigh brushed up against hers and he was drunk enough to leave it rest there. She didn’t seem to mind either as she continued to survey the bar.

Arya turned her head in her palms to look at him. He could tell just by looking at her she was a little tipsy, but not quite drunk, not yet anyway.

“If you live after you kill Gregor, where will you go?” she asked.

“Haven’t really thought about it honestly,” he said.

She continued to look at him with those blasted big grey eyes and he took a drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“If your brother becomes King I might serve under him. If the crazy white-haired lady becomes Queen I might fight as a sell-sword,” he said. “Or maybe I’ll become a fucking farmer and stay away from all that shite. I have no idea.”

The she-wolf surprised him with a laugh.

“You? As a farmer? That would be a sight to see,” she said.

“Well? What of you then?” Sandor asked.

Arya rubbed her eyes with her fists and yawned before answering.

“I’m tired of Ladies and Lords with their schemes. I may just do what I was supposed to in Braavos and become an assassin for the highest bidder,” she said.

She then looked at him with humor in her eyes.

“Or maybe I’ll just become a farmer.”

Sandor chuckled at her and lifted his hand to ruffle her hair. It was jut as soft as he remembered.

She had a small smile playing on her lips when she brought the glass to her mouth and took another sip.

They sat in a comfortable silence. They watched the crowded tavern just get drunker and drunker as the night wore on. Occasionally one of them would laugh and point out some idiot making a bigger fool of himself in losing a proposed fight against another.

He became increasingly annoyed when he saw Arya’s eyes drift over to the stable boy who was surrounded by a bunch of men about her age. They were all laughing and drinking, not having a care in the world.

She stared at them for a moment too long and then looked out the window next to her.

“You should be more careful around all these men, wolf-bitch,” Sandor finally grumbled into his goblet of wine.

Arya looked up at him with questioning eyes.

“How do you mean?” she asked.

Sandor sighed and turned his entire body to face her.

“I wont always be around to protect you,” he raised his hand up stopping her from speaking before she could interrupt him.

He continued, “I know you can take care of yourself. You proved that when you set off to Braavos and came back to Winterfell all on your own. But one day you wont be so lucky. Eventually a man is going to come into your tent while your aren’t armed and he’ll take you, with or without your permission. Your fighting is useless if you had a man the size of Gregor trying to take your maidenhood. You need to be more aware that women of your age and size are more susceptible to attack. Just promise me you’ll be more careful after I die.”

Sandor huffed out a breath he’d been holding. He had wanted to say that since he entered Winterfell and saw her for the first time. He supposed the wine was working its effects on him as he finally had the courage to say something.

Arya wasn’t looking him in the eye. She was just staring into the wine glass for several moments before she spoke.

“Even if I still had a maidenhood worth protecting it wouldn’t matter. I can handle myself and you aren’t going to die, you’re a far more superior fighter than Gregor,” she said, her words slurring ever so slightly.

“Aye, I am, but he’ll be harder to kill than just a fucking sword to the belly,” he said.

Suddenly he stopped his hand in midair from raising his glass to his lips.

“The fuck do you mean _if_ you had a maidenhood?!” he exclaimed, looking at her with his eyebrows raised to his forehead.

Arya froze and looked at him with wide eyes. She looked as though she was caught doing something bad. He could practically see the wheel turning in her brain trying to think of something.

‘I.. uh.. just mean that… uh… no one would want me because I’m not a lady. I mean I don’t even own a dress,” she lied. Badly.

He felt his blood boil and his vision turn red. He had never been this furious before. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to take a sledgehammer and pound it into someone’s face until they were nothing but a puddle of blood and bone.

Sandor glared at her with the malice of 100 men. He didn’t like being lied to. And she did it so seldom he could tell immediately when she said the words. It turned out that her Braavos training in lying had come to a halt when she was deep in the red wine.

He leaned closer to her face so that he was nose to nose with her.

“ _What. Did. You. Mean?_ ” he said angrily, he swore to the Gods if she lied again he was going to throttle her.

 Arya looked shocked that she had revealed something she shouldn’t have. And then suddenly she looked angry.

“I don’t answer to you! I don’t have to tell you anything,” she practically yelled.

She began to get up meaning to climb over the table and leave him there. But he was having none of it.

He grabbed the wolf-bitch by the shoulder and shoved her back into her seat roughly. When he knew she wasn’t going anywhere he then sat back and gave her her space. He evaluated her a moment before thinking to hells with it, he was already on this path and he wanted to know what happened to his wolf-bitch.

“Well I hope he fucked you good, girl. Because you cost your family an entire Kingdom,” he practically spat.

She glared daggers at him before she spoke.

“I was never going to be sold off to some fat Lord and you know it,” she said angrily before turning back to the window. He made a note that she didn’t deny that she wasn’t a maiden anymore.

Sandor gripped his glass tightly and was thankful it was made of metal and not glass for it would have surely broke in his hand.

And then she mumbled so quietly that Sandor wasn’t sure if he even heard her correctly or if she even meant to say it out loud.

“I just didn’t want to die not knowing what it was like.”

Sandor sat back in his chair and downed the rest of his wine. His thigh was still pressed against hers and it still warmed his entire body. Suddenly he blurted out the question that was burning like wildfire in his mind.

“Who?”

Arya didn’t turn away from the window, “Who do you think?”

He knew immediately. And then it clicked. That night when she sat with him on the wall before the dead fuckers came. She left and fucked the blacksmith. That’s why he proposed so suddenly, he was in love with her after he fucked her and she said no. Sandor was surprised at himself that he was so pleased.

However the idea of another man’s hands on her made him want to kill something, he knew that most women who weren’t highborns were not maidens. Not in slightest. Hells, most of the lowborn women he knew had fucked several men and then wed by the time they were the wolf-bitch’s age. He still hated the fact that she was taken by another, but what did he think? That she would be saving herself for him?

Sandor laughed bitterly enough that she turned from the window and looked at him like he had gone mad.

“Well, at least you didn’t let the little shit trick you into marrying him. He fights like a bloody woman.”

Arya rolled her eyes but seemed to have sobered from the sour mood Sandor had put her in and the corner of her mouth tipped up.


	10. Arya

Arya continued to look around the tavern in silence with Sandor sitting next to her drinking his weight in wine. She had to admit talking about Gendry made her uncomfortable to say the least but she wasn’t about to admit that now.

She reached for her glass and took a long sip. She came to the tavern with the sole intention of getting drunk off her ass and she wasn’t about to let an awkward conversation with _him_ deter her from her original plan.

Sandor adjusted himself in his seat and she felt his massive thigh rub against her own. She shivered from the pleasure of having his leg warm her.

“Your idiot green boy is staring at you,” Sandor said, chuckling into his glass.

Arya’s head snapped to Sandor. “Don’t look! You’ll only encourage him,” she barked angrily.

“What? Might be a good idea,” he said. “When you thought that horned fucker was going to kill us all you went out seeking the bastard king. Now you’re planning on dying again, maybe another tumble will do you good.”

Arya actually felt her eyes widen as she looked up at him. He was smirking down at her in a way she had never seen before. She quickly looked away when her gaze dropped to his lips. She grabbed one of the flagons and began to stand.

  “I only fucked him because I wanted to know what it was like before I die,” she said. “I knew he wanted me when I saw him that day. Now that I know what all the fuss is about I don’t need to do it again. Least of all with that boy who’s never even held a sword.”

Arya was standing now, waiting for Sandor to move out of the booth so she could leave. When he didn’t move she gave him a shove on the shoulder for which he barely moved. She huffed out an annoyed sigh when he continued to sit there, looking her up and down with that blasted smirk still plastered across his burnt face.

He moved his body so he was facing her with his arm over the back of the seat and the other braced on the table. Caging her in with her back pressed against the wall.

“So you like men that have held swords then?” he asked.

Arya rolled her eyes and tried to make an aggravated looking face. On the inside her heart was pounding and she was fighting the urge pounce into his lap and bite his lips.

Sandor must’ve taken her silence as her answer because he continued on.

“You say you don’t need to do it again, girl?” he asked. Leaning in to her space even further than he already was. “Must’ve not been a very good fuck otherwise you’d want to do it again, I bet his cock is thinner than your little needle.”

She decided it was best not to answer him, even if she did feel like Gendry wasn’t as well in downed as she thought he would be. When he still refused to move she sat back down and slid under the table and crawled over his feet so she could get around him. She stood up and could hear Sandor chuckling under his breath at efforts to get away from this conversation.

Arya felt the room spinning and knew the wine had gone straight to her head. She tried with all her effort to steady herself to make it at least look as though she wasn’t already drunk.

“That was very unladylike,” he said with a grin.

Arya didn’t respond and just grabbed the flagon and began to walk away from him. Before she could even make another step she felt his thick fingers wrap around her wrist and yank her back.

She stumbled and his other hand came to her shoulder to steady her.

“What the fuck!” she exclaimed. Wiping some of the spilled wine off her chest.

“You think I’m going to let you walk around in the middle of the night drunk as shit with all these men in here ready to rape you?” he said.

The hand that was on her shoulder had dropped to her hip and was squeezing her tight. Inwardly Arya wished he were clutching her tighter and without clothes.

She quickly shook her head to remove that thought.

“I don’t need you protecting me. I’m not a little girl anymore and I can handle myself, drunk or not,” she said.

Sandor looked at her with that stupid smirk again. His eyes were raking up and down her body. She knew she needed to get away from him right now. He was looking like he wanted to eat her and she had to admit she didn’t mind one bit.

“Oh, believe me. No one knows you’re not a little girl anymore more than me,” he growled. He stared at her for a few seconds to long before rising up on his feet, towering over her small frame.

_What was that supposed to mean?_

She had been around him drunk countless times and knew immediately that he was drunk when she saw him wobbling as he stood. He also grabbed a flagon and gave her a gentle shove towards the door.

Arya reached into her pockets and dropped some coin onto the table for their meals and wine.

She felt herself stumble when she walked and heard Sandor chuckle behind her.

“Shut up, I don’t even know why you’re here,” she snapped at him.

“Needed food and wine after fucking that unfortunate-looking wench,” he mumbled.

Arya stopped walking in the middle of the tavern and looked up at him, livid.

 She of course knew had been with women before. She remembered the countless times she had to wait outside of those disgusting places while he was inside with one of the women. But for some reason this felt different.

No doubt the woman would be prettier than her. Most women were in Arya’s opinion. She remembered Sansa calling her horse-faced when she was a child. Moreover, she had no inclination of exactly how to be appealing to men, as she always seemed to be doing the exact opposite of that. She strapped down her breasts whenever she left her chambers, she wore boy’s clothes, even wore her hair in a boyish style. It wasn’t that she wanted to look like a boy anymore; it was just that boy’s clothes were more functional for her work.

“What?” Sandor asked peering down at her confused.

Arya realized she couldn’t say that she was a jealous of the woman so she came up with a different excuse to try and dampen the situation.

“You wasted coin on a whore? You do realize we have limited funds and we need to save our money until the next town or we could starve,” she growled.

Sandor snorted and stepped closer to her. So close that she could feel the heat of his belly against her chest.

“If I’m going to die in the next few weeks I will do what I want with who I want,” he said. “That includes fucking whoever is willing.”

He was looking at her with that predatory look again and this time Arya didn’t look away or try and stop it. Arya felt her mouth go dry and her palms were dripping with sweat. She never felt this before. Not even with Gendry.

He continued to tower over her body with his hulking build. His gaze raking over her like he owned her. When his brown eyes met hers he took a step even closer so that he was pressed against her.

Arya’s gaze dropped from his eyes to his lips and back up again. He began to lean down to her and her heart beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

“Oi, mate! How much can I give you for the tiny little thing you got there?”

Sandor cursed under his breath and turned around to see a little fat man with a beer stein blatantly looking at Arya’s chest.

Sandor’s hand shot to the hilt of his sword and just before he could unsheathe it Arya’s hand shot to his wrist.

“We can’t take on this many men when we’re both drunk,” she whispered. “We also are supposed to be staying low and not creating too much of a fuss,” she growled.

Sandor cussed underneath his breath again and let go of his sword. He quickly turned around and put his hand on her lower back, ushering her out of the loud establishment.


	11. Sandor/Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok guys. Let's kick it up a little shall we? 
> 
> As always kudos and comments are always appreciated! 
> 
> .

Sandor was piss drunk and he knew it. Otherwise he wouldn’t have almost kissed the wolf-bitch openly in that bloody tavern. He liked that when she grabbed his hand to stop him from lopping off the head of the fat man. He liked it even more when he was about to kiss her and she didn’t make a move to stop him.

What was that about? He chalked it up to being the symptom of the wine. Even now she was allowing him to keep his hand on the small of her back as they made their way back to the inn. He wanted to let his hand fall lower to see if her arse was just as firm as he imagined it to be, but he thought better of it.

Gods, he was properly fucked now. He almost had her and then that cunt had to interrupt them. He wanted to go back and lay his sword into that man’s belly. He wanted to watch his guts fall onto the dirty floor for disrespecting his wolf-bitch and interrupting whatever was about to happen.

Sandor shook his head, _she isn’t yours_ , he thought.

Arya stumbled for the third time and Sandor chuckled.

“You completed your mission, girl,” he said. “You’re just as drunk as me, maybe more.”

Arya surprised him by laughing. “You say that but you’re the one that is slurring his words.”

Sandor didn’t even realize he was slurring at all.

He wondered if he would ever have the chance to kiss her before he died. Maybe it was the wine talking, but what was the point in hiding his affections if they were both just going to die anyway? He would never tell her he was in love with her, it wasn’t his way. He could go days without speaking to anyone besides telling him or her to fuck off, so why should this be any different? Lead by his actions and not by his words, he could do that with his wolf-bitch couldn’t he?

 _Fuck it_ , he thought.

He looked down at her pointedly and removed his hand from her back to put two hands on the flagon to dump more wine into his mouth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side as they continued to walk.

Experimentally he squeezed her hip like he wanted to do for months, allowing his fingers to dig into her furs.

Arya threw her emptied flagon on the ground and wrapped her arms around her torso. She yawned loudly and he actually felt her lean into his side as they walked. Sandor flexed his arm tighter around her and he heard her hum in response. This felt right, having her tucked to his side as they were on their way to kill a bunch of cunts that wronged them. He imagined the only reason she was leaning on him was because she was cold.

“For being a Northerner you sure handle the cold poorly,” he said trying to distract himself from her curves that were pressed against his side.

Arya yawned and squeezed her arms more tightly around herself.

“Fuck off. I was born in the summer. Besides, not all of us are built like a giant with the fur of a fucking wolf,” she grumbled.

“Gods, you are a foul-mouthed little thing,” Sandor chuckled.

They continued to walk in a comfortable silence. He wanted to walk slower to prolong the time he got to hold her. When they reached their chambers he had to remove his arm from around her waist to get a key. When they entered the small room Arya walked straight to the fireplace to add more logs. Sandor set down his wine and began removing his furs and other layers and chucking them onto the floor beside the bed. He then sat down on the bed and began to unlace his boots. He looked to see Arya doing the same, but on the floor next to the fire. 

She got up and Sandor watched as she walked over to him to grab the flagon and take a deep drink.

Gods, she was gorgeous in the firelight. He noticed she had taken her hair out of its usual bindings and was it brushing against her chin. He also noticed that she had taken off the majority of her layers leaving her in just her thin sark and breeches. He could see her curves more prominently now and he wanted to see more. He knew she probably strapped down her breasts so fighting would be easier, he wondered how it would feel like to unwrap them and touch them with his hands.

“Why do you always look at me like that?” she asked.

Sandor didn’t realize he was yet again staring at her intently.

“Like what?” he asked.

Arya was quiet for a moment and set down the flagon of wine. She took a timid step towards him. It did not go passed Sandor that she was standing only a foot or so away from him, perfectly within arms length to grab hold of her if necessary.

“Like you want to eat me,” she whispered.

Sandor swallowed and looked directly into her grey eyes. She was looking at him shyly. Which was unheard of when he thought of her. Arya was strong, fierce and unwavering. The last thing he would think of when he thought of her was shy.

Sandor had to remember she was almost half his age and didn’t have the life experience of men trying to crawl into her bed. She didn’t know how to react to such things. She would have no idea about seduction. Hells, she was the one that crawled into someone else’s bed and he imagined she did that with little to none of the shyness she seemed to have now.

He looked over her again before answering her question.

“Maybe I do,” he said.

“It’s usually wolves that eat dogs,” she said. Taking another step towards him.

Sandor had enough of this teasing. If there was ever a time where he was in a ‘fuck it’ mood it was tonight.

He grabbed her by her hand and yanked her forward so she was standing in between his legs. She was so small that the top of her head was aligned with his, even though he was sitting. He placed one of his hands firmly on her hip and the other laced into her hair and grabbing it roughly by the fistful.

She grunted and looked dangerously at him. Her big grey eyes were hooded with what Sandor believed to be lust. One of her tiny hands was placed on his shoulder and the other was on the side of his neck, her nails were slightly digging into his skin.

She squeaked when he jerked her head forward and slammed her lips onto his.

 

**XXXX**

 

Arya heard a girlish squeak escape her lips when Sandor’s mouth slammed against her own. It took her a moment to realize it came from her, a sound she was sure she never made before.

His lips were chapped from the weeks of exposure to the cold. One of his massive paws was pulling her hair by the roots in a delightfully painful way. His other hand was gripping her hip with his fingers digging in so tightly she was sure she would bruise.

Arya gripped his shoulder as hard as she could. She loved that it was as hard as rock from years of training and physical excursion. Her other hand moved from the side of his neck and into his hair pushing his head closer to her own.

The kiss itself was sloppy and rough. Nothing about it was gentle. His tongue rammed into her mouth with no regard for anything else but his own pleasure. Their tongue’s fought each other for dominance over the kiss but when he grunted in warning she surprisingly backed down.

She felt his hand slide up her body from her hip slowly, just slightly brushing against her right breast, over her neck and into her hair to join his other hand.

He yanked her head away from his and she opened her eyes trying to catch her breath. He had that look again. He was staring into her soul like she belonged to him and Arya felt her legs wobble from the combination of the wine and the kiss.

He wrenched her head to the side, angling it just the way he wanted and pulled her back into another deep kiss. Arya bit down on his bottom lip and tugged on it gently and she heard Sandor groan and let his hand drop from her hair to the small of her back and pulled her closer. Enclosing her in his arms tightly.

Arya wrapped her arms around his neck allowing for no space between them. She was panting but then so was he. She wanted to feel him more so she let one of her hands slip underneath his sark at the back of his neck.

Having only ever been with one other man Arya couldn’t help but compare Sandor to Gendry. He was obviously a lot bigger in size but also bigger in spirit. She knew Gendry was eager but he was very boy-like at heart still. It was Arya that was doing the majority of the work when they were together that evening. He was so gentle and so afraid of touching her, Arya had to tell him to be a bit rougher with her.

Sandor obviously did not have this problem. He was demanding and aggressive with her body. Her head was aching painfully from the grip he had on her hair. The hand on her back was actually starting to slide down to her ass and she unintentionally moaned into his mouth and he grunted in response. He gripped her buttocks appreciatively causing another, much louder, moan.

Arya’s raked her nails under his sark against his shoulders and Sandor groaned against her lips.

Suddenly Sandor’s hands went to her shoulders and he shoved her away from him, breaking the heavy-handed kiss.

Arya stumbled back and looked at him. His eyes were wild and his lips were swollen. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he sat on the bed looking at her like he was afraid of her.

Sandor stood abruptly and walked passed her without meeting her gaze.

“Going to get some air,” he mumbled under his breath.

Arya reached out and grabbed him by the wrist.

“Sandor…” she was unable to continue. What could she possibly say? Anything that came to mind just sounded pathetically sappy and girlish. She wanted to tell him not to go but every time she tried to speak her voice gave out.

When he finally met her gaze he moved his hand so that his thick fingers gripped her own. He looked almost defeated. Like he was giving up on something.

He opened his mouth to say something and all that came out was: “I…uh…”

She tried to think of something to say as well and came up blank.

Sandor huffed and pulled her close so she had to crane her neck to look up at him. She begrudgingly admitted that it felt nice to have him still holding her hand.

“Gods, we are both shit at this,” Sandor said.

Arya let out a big breath that she didn’t know she was holding in relief.

“Aye, we are. Maybe we should just get some sleep and we can deal with it in the morning,” she said. Arya had to admit she had sobered some from the wine but she was still drunk no doubt. Probably wasn’t best to talk about her affections for him when her head was so muddled.

Sandor nodded at her proposal and let got of her hand.

When they got into the bed both lay on the far opposite side with their backs to one another in their separate beds. Arya squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for the room to stop spinning.  


	12. Sandor

Sandor woke in the morning with a surprisingly light hangover. It wasn’t unmanageable but he was most certainly foggy. He sat up and felt a sting on his back. He lifted his hand to the back of his neck only to feel the bumps of the scratches the little wolf left on his skin. That was when he realized last night was not a dream.

He looked over to see the wolf-girl laying on the bed next him facing away from him. Good. He didn’t want to see her face right now when he couldn’t smother it in kisses and bites.

Surely she would regret it this morning. They were drunk and made a mistake as people often do when drinking. Even if he did get a few moans from her and she very clearly kissed him back with enthusiasm, she was still probably going to deny him.

He swore under his breath when his feet hit the cold stone floor to get up for the day. Her hip wasn’t cold when he touched it. In fact, it was burning to the touch. He flexed his hands remembering the feel of her arse as well. It was even firmer than he thought. He wanted to grab it again while he fucked her from behind.

Sandor quickly stood and started putting on his clothes for the day. He could not be thinking of such things when he was around her. It was just going to get them into trouble again.

When he finished getting dressed he turned and looked at the little wolf. He walked around the bed so he could look at her face. She was always so guarded he just wanted to burn the picture of her at peace into his memory before his brother killed him.

He couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and tucking a stray hair behind her ear gently but was stopped when her hand holding a knife darted out from under her pillow and was pressed right against his balls.

“The fuck you doing!” he yelled.

“Me? You should no better than to surprise someone when they’re sleeping!” she hollered removing the dagger from his testicles.

Sandor saw her push herself up from the mattress and look at him with an aggravated look.

“Get your shit and meet me downstairs. We have a lot of riding to do today, girl,” he growled. 

He didn’t wait for an answer as he strode out the door to feed Stranger. He passed the innkeepers in the main entrance gawking at him for his size and face.

“The fuck you looking at you old bastards?” he growled at them.

He made it to the stables and fed his horse. He patted his side causing the horse to chuff in pleasure.

Arya was right about his horse. He truly was the only thing he loved, other than her of course. He finished preparing Stranger for the ride and when Arya didn’t arrive yet, he prepared hers as well. When she still didn’t come to the stables after he finished he swore that if she were lolly gagging like she used to he would box her ears.

When he left the stables to drag her arse to her horse he saw the fat man from last night from the tavern smiling in front of her. She was chatting with him happily. He had seen her smile more in the thirty seconds she was standing there than he had ever in their time in Winterfell.

_The fuck is this?_ He thought. He made his way over and saw her look up at the fat man from under her lashes seductively. She then placed her hand on his pudgy face and whispered something in his ear. The man chuckled and looked her over.

Sandor had made it close enough to the man that he could hear their conversation.

“Far be it from me to deny the request of a pretty little lady like you, my dear,” purred the fat man. “Give me a moment and I will fetch some for you.”

Arya smiled at him, “Oh thank you sir. You are too kind,” she purred.

The fat man smiled at her and patted her on her hip and walked towards the tavern.

Sandor wanted to rip the man’s head off. He wanted to watch him scream for mercy for touching his wolf-bitch.

After the disgusting man left Sandor stalked over and grabbed her by her upper arm and yanked her towards him, slamming her into his body.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, girl?” he snarled. “Because you didn’t get enough from me last night you go seek out the first rotten shit that paid you any mind?”

Arya glared at him, “In case you were too drunk to remember, you kissed me, you drunk shit. And secondly I’m using him to get food that will keep that isn’t just stale bread,” she hissed. “Now let go before he sees you.”

When he didn’t move his stance he felt the dagger in his balls again and he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. This was probably the closest her tiny little hand would get near his cock and he was going to bask in it as long as he could.

“I said, Let. Me. Go.” She emphasized. He finally released her and she sheathed her blade back into her belt.

The man came back with jerky that would last them for the majority of the trip. Sandor was happy they had food but not about the way they got it.

“Many thanks,” she said sweetly.

The man gave her a rotten grin and started to reach for her to undoubtedly give her a kiss on the cheek and Sandor was having none of it. He wrapped his arm around her tiny waist and shoved her behind him.

“Keep your filthy paws off my wom- niece,” Sandor said. Catching himself from calling her his woman in front of her.

They rode quietly for the remainder of the day. Sandor wanted to ask her so many things but remained quiet. He wanted her now more than ever. Having only had a taste of her last night he now wanted the whole thing. Gods, he couldn’t get the thought of her lips pressed against his own out of his head.

“We were drunk last night,” Arya said bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Aye…” Sandor said cautiously.

She wasn’t looking at him. She was staring at the trail ahead of them with that blasted fucking guard up again.

“We don’t need to do that again,” she said.

“Which part? Getting drunk or kissing?”

“Both.”

Sandor was never much for lying. Especially when it came to her. He felt lying was for cunts who were too weak to face the truth. Arya wasn’t weak. She handled everything life threw at her and came out stronger. He owed it to her to tell her the truth and the resolve he made last night hadn’t changed in the time he slept. He still wanted her to know that he desired her.

He clutched the reigns tighter and looked ahead of the trail before he spoke.

“We’ll see,” he said.

Arya’s head snapped towards him, “what do you mean, ‘we’ll see?’” she hissed.

“I will most definitely be getting drunk again before I die. And I also wouldn’t mind kissing you again either, wolf-bitch,” he said.

Arya’s mouth fell open and she was gawking at him like he’d grown a third head.

“Close your mouth, girl or you’ll catch flies,” he said chuckling.

“Are you just trying to fuck a high-born before you die?” Arya asked. “Or are you just trying to get the next best thing to my sister?”

He glared down at her. He was annoyed with her to think that he wanted either of those things. He may have one desired her sister but he sure as shit didn’t want that cold frigid bitch anymore. Not now that he knew Arya so deeply.

He kicked his horse so he was closer to her with their legs almost touching.

“I don’t give a shit about titles, girl. You should know that by now. And I don’t give a shit about your sister either. I like my women durable, not breakable,” he said gruffly.

Arya quickly turned her face away from him but not before her eyes were on his mouth. Sandor decided _to hells with it_ for the second time and grabbed her by the front of her jacket and lifted her off her horse to he could press his lips to hers again.

It was a quick kiss, no tongue but the passion was still there. He heard her make that adorable squeak she did the first time he kissed her and he smiled against her lips. She was so small that he could lift her up with little effort. When her hands went to his chest to push him away he plopped her back down on her saddle. Her face was red and she was biting down on her bottom lip, clearly embarrassed and not sure what to do or say.

“The next time we kiss, it will be you that instigates it,” he grumbled. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he forced himself on her but he also hated the idea of another man being able to touch her wherever he wanted. He was still fuming that that little shit was allowed to touch her before he was.

Arya didn’t say anything. She looked just a shocked and embarrassed making Sandor chuckle at her expression.

Neither of them spoke until it was time to set up camp.


	13. Arya/Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone. About bloody time. 
> 
> I apologize for the length, i just really wanted all of this in one chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy and as always I appreciate kudos and comments! 
> 
>  
> 
> . 
> 
> .

That night they made their camp quietly. Arya left to retrieve some wood for the fire while Sandor readied their beds. While she was gone she thought of the afternoon’s events.

It was clear he wanted her in his bed, but beyond that? She couldn’t even think of it, as she was certain would both be dead after fighting through Gregor. He said he liked his women durable, did he want her to be his woman while they traveled?

She chided herself for thinking like such a girl. She should have the same mentality about this as men did, but was coming up at a loss. There was no real point in starting anything only to be killed a few weeks afterwards. Then again, why not start something when you are going to die? What could be the harm of it?

She had no answers when she returned to the camp. She sat down across from him and began building the fire. They ate and drank in silence as well. She drank the wine cautiously to make sure she did not have a repeat of the previous night. She could feel his gaze on her and this time she decided not to say anything about it. She was uncomfortable with these feelings of push and pull and she was sick of it.

She looked up and saw that he was staring into the fire, his eyes somewhere else. Arya was never frightened of his face. Not even as a child. She thought he looked brave. The scars he wore showed him as a warrior, a true fighter. She liked that. She also liked his attitude towards people, it kept them away from her. If there was anything she liked more, it was the peacefulness of being away from crowds.

Arya remembered the night before and how good it felt. She thought of his hands on her and she felt her heart flutter. His mouth was warm and demanding. She liked that he had no issue of showing her exactly what he wanted by grabbing her so roughly. Despite the way he snarled at her, she enjoyed his company. She enjoyed the pureness of his aggressive nature. She also enjoyed the way it felt when he kissed her. Really, what was the harm in having a mutual agreement to warm each other’s beds for the remainder of their trip?

She capped her wine skin and nervously got up and walked around the fire to him. He looked up at her, his eyes looking black in the darkness of the forest. She lowered herself to her knees and climbed onto his lap so she was straddling him with her legs on either side of his thighs. She placed her hands on his biceps to steady herself. His hands instinctively rested on her hips and he regarded her with lustful eyes.

Arya swallowed nervously as she knew there was no turning back now. The thought both terrified and thrilled her.

“You sure about this, wolf-bitch? Dogs are loyal, you let me have you once you might not be able to rid yourself of me,” he said, his hands tightening around her hips.

Arya swallowed nervously again before answering. “Considering we’re both going to be dead soon I doubt you’ll be too much trouble,” she said.

While she spoke his hands began rubbing up and down her thighs. In return she ran her hands up his arms to his shoulders, loving the feel of his thick muscles.

“So you like mutilated dogs then?” He asked sarcastically.  “Or are you just doing this out of pity?”

“I wouldn’t be with someone I pitied. I’m not that weak,” Arya said with a frown. “So I suppose the answer is yes, I like mutilated dogs. But only one’s that know how to handle a sword,” she said.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a bruising kiss. Very similar to the one he gave her the previous night. This time he allowed her more control over the kiss although he still refused to submit to her completely. Arya explored his mouth with her tongue, making her moan at the pleasure of it. Her arms slid tighter around his neck like before but both hands slipped into his hair with her forearms resting on the back of his head.

Their tongues danced together for a short period of time before he grunted and took over. He seemed to have enough of her leading so Arya happily let him do it. Unlike last time where he hesitantly grabbed her ass with one hand, this time she felt both of his hands confidently slide up her thighs to her ass, squeezing her cheeks roughly.

Arya let out another moan and Sandor pulled away from her mouth causing Arya to look up at him with heated eyes.

“You gonna let me fuck you tonight?” he asked.

Arya, breathless, nodded quickly and let her arms drop from around his neck and threaded her fingers into his thick dark beard, pulling him back to her lips. She nipped at them, pulling back each time he tried to get his tongue in her mouth. He grunted in frustration and when she continued her teasing it earned her a firm slap on the rump, making her squeak.

“Don’t play with me, girl,” he growled. “I’ve been wanting to fuck you for months. You keep up that shite and you’ll get another smack on that fine arse of yours.”

Arya swooped down and did what _she_ wanted to do for months and bit down on his exposed neck, eliciting a growl from him. One of his hands slipped to the top of her thigh and squeezed it tightly while the other wound into her hair and pulled her off his neck roughly. She whimpered and tried to move her head back down to his neck but he held her hair firmly.

“You really are a wolf-bitch aren’t you?” he said eyes shinning with amusement.

Arya looked at him through hooded eyes, “Show me how a dog fucks a wolf,” she whispered breathlessly.

Sandor groaned and released her hair letting her continue the assault on his neck. He placed his hands on the back of her thighs and stood up as if she weighed nothing. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his ribs. He began walking to the tent and groaned when she licked the shell of his ear.

Arya smiled against his neck and then whispered in his ear, “Wolves like licking what’s theirs.”

He gripped the back of her thighs tighter and increased his pace to the tent. When they were inside he let go of her legs and set her on her feet.

Arya reached her arms up high and yanked him down by his furs for another burning kiss. He enthusiastically returned it with his tongue winding with hers. His hands went to her sword belt and began unbuckling it while Arya did the same for him. They each franticly took off layers until they were both down to their breeches and sarks.

Sandor reached behind his back and pulled his shirt off in one swift movement. Arya’s eyes bulged out at the amount of scars that littered his body. She was impressed by them, it showed what a true warrior he was. She also admired the muscles on his chest and stomach and ran her fingers through he chest hair before she helped him unlace his breeches quickly.

When he was naked in front of her he kissed her hard on the mouth. Arya experimentally let her hand run down his stomach and wrap around his cock. Arya could feel him groan into her mouth as she let her fingers run up and down the shaft of his cock. He was much bigger than Gendry and a part of her was nervous he wasn’t going to fit.

Sandor grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hand away.

“You keep doing that and we’ll be done before we even started,” he whispered.

He then took her hands in his and lifted them so they were raised above her head. He gave them a gentle squeeze to stay there while he lifted her sark over head. He then went to untie the laces of her breeches and yanked them, along with her small clothes, down for her to step out of.  Arya had to admit she felt a little bashful when he removed the bindings that held her breasts, but quickly squashed that thought when he held her shoulders and took a step back staring at her naked body and muttered, “fucking gorgeous.”

He began to feel her tits with his big hands before he bent down and closed his mouth over one. She moaned loudly and but he just continued to lick and suckle at her. When he was finished with one he just began on the other.

While he was suckling at her she felt one of his hands slip between her legs and began lazily touching her folds. Arya gasped and had to grip his shoulders to steady herself. She opened her legs a little more to give him the room to touch her where she wanted. He continued moving his fingers in her cunt and chuckled when he heard her swear from the pleasure of it.

“You’re already wet for me, little-wolf,” he murmured against her skin. “And I’ve barely touched you.”

Arya couldn’t respond. The way he was fondling her made her skin tingle and her blood sing.

The assault on her tits didn’t end either. He was licking and biting her in ways she never felt. She had no idea she could feel this just by simple touches. This was nothing like when she touched herself or when Gendry touched her. It was like she was floating in waves, waiting for him to wash over her like the sea to a ship.

Arya’s legs felt wobbly and she had to grasp onto her lover tighter in order to steady herself.

“Sandor,” she whined. “My legs are going to give out.”

He pulled his fingers away form her and kissed her with the vigor of a man much younger than she. He held her still by her shoulders and let his hand slide up to her cheeks with his thumbs caressing her cheekbones. She could feel her own juices on her face and she felt oddly even more aroused. Experimentally, she took his hand away from her face and grasped the fingers that were teasing her and put them in her mouth and began to suck.

Sandor growled predatorily and pulled away abruptly and grabbed her by her chin roughly, “Lay down for me, girl,” he murmured to her.

Arya quickly sat down into the furs and lay down on her back, propped on her elbows, looking up at him.

She never wanted something more than she wanted him right now. She was certain that she never felt this desire with Gendry. He was a boy and Sandor was a man. She never had a man and it was clear Sandor knew what he was doing in terms of pleasing a woman. It was clear at the way he was looking at her that he wanted her. She felt powerful at the way he was looking at her and she wanted more.

Sandor was stroking himself standing above her looking down at her. She looked up at him for a few seconds and when he didn’t move except for his hand stroking his cock and she grew impatient. She whined like a puppy and his eyes locked into hers and he fell into his hands on either side of her shoulders.

“You sure, girl?” he asked. His face was right over top of hers. His big brown eyes were looking at her with curiosity and lust.

Arya groaned and grabbed his face, her hands buried in his beard, “Yes, Sandor please fuck me,” she practically begged.

She could see Sandor looking at her like he owned her, and then teased her with the head of his cock touching the entrance of her cunt.

Arya heard herself mewl at the feeling of him. She moved her body so she could feel him further, but alas he moved away from her. She cussed at him to which he grinned and bit her ear.

He then moved his cock deeper inside her, but still did not penetrate fully. After a few times she was finally having enough and smacked him on his shoulder.

“Aye, the wolf-bitch wants it?” he asked while grinning, his hard cock still remaining at her entrance.

“Yes,” Arya begged.

He then thrust himself inside her with no warning.

Arya cried out in both pleasure and pain. He was _much_ bigger than Gendry and she knew she would be sore in the morning.

“Tight little thing,” he groaned into her neck. “I thought that little shit would’ve broken you in, but it seems as though I get the pleasure.” She could feel him grinning gleefully into her neck and it made her eyes roll into the back of her head. She liked that he was pleased he was the one to do it.

Sandor didn’t move, he just kept his cock inside her and allowed her to adjust to his size.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked looking at her seriously.

Arya shook her head. “Just give me a second.”

Sandor began kissing and suckling at her neck as he waited patiently. When she finally felt like she was stretched out enough she told him to move.

He slowly let his cock leave her completely only to just enter her again. He did that several times, making her moan and shake. It wasn’t until the fifth or sixth time that he stayed inside her and began rocking his hips faster and faster, fucking her proper.

Arya howled out his name when his cock reached a spot that made her toes curl and her thighs shake. She never felt that before. While he continued to drive himself into her body he kept his forehead against her own, looking down at her to see if she liked it. Arya made a point of keeping her eyes open to gaze back at him. It was so intense, she wasn’t used to such feelings at all let alone for a man she once hated.

Her arms were wrapped around his neck and her legs were hooked around his hips. One of his forearms was braced against the ground by her head while his other hand gripped the back of her thigh, his fingers pressing so deep into the flesh, Arya knew it would leave bruises.

Right when she felt like she was about to hit that peak that she always desired when she played with herself alone at night, he pulled out of her completely. Arya groaned in protest but he kissed her roughly and he sat up on his knees. He then grabbed her by her hips and rolled her over onto her belly. Arya instinctively raised herself up to her hands and knees, waiting for him.

“You wanted to see how a dog fucks his bitch? I will show you,” he whispered leaning over her seductively in her ear.

His hands were braced over hers and he was hunched over her, exactly like a dog would have. His matted chest hair was pressed against her back and she couldn’t calm down her breathing at all so she just panted beneath him.

“Yes,” Arya purred turning her head to nuzzle her face with his own.

 

**XXXX**

 

Sandor’s body was vibrating. That was the only way he could think of to describe it. His wolf-bitch truly was quite brazen when she climbed into his lap without warning. He especially liked that she kissed him and was pleading for him to fuck her. That was going to be something he would remember for the rest of his limited days.

When he first entered her he was almost blinded by how hot and tight she was. Having only ever fucked whores and tavern wenches, he never knew the pleasures of having a woman that had not been fucked by several men before him.

He looked at her on her hands and knees before him. It was just like in his fantasy except she was even more fiercely beautiful. Her eyes were hooded and she was whining like a pup. He liked that.

The need to fuck her was overwhelming but he wanted it to last so to please her. He didn’t want her to remember their time together while dying on the battlefield only to come up disappointed. He wanted her to die knowing that she was thoroughly loved.

“Sandor,” she moaned pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked down at her and saw that she looked annoyed that he was taking so long.

 _Impatient little thing_ , he thought happily.

He placed his cock at her entrance and slowly slid in, making them both moan in unison. He tried to go slow, he really did. But after only a few strokes Arya began meeting him halfway and bouncing that firm ass against him, making the strokes harder and faster.

He began slamming into her hard. One hand was gripping her by the shoulder and the other was at her hip to give him more power. His thighs were slapping into her arse and making a delightful sound to Sandor’s ears.

Arya cried out a string of cusses and he could feel her walls beginning to close around him. She was shaking and her back was arching. She was also growling and moaning like a wild boar and Sandor never wanted to hear anything but that for the rest of his life. She was so close to coming undone so Sandor increased his pace.

“Sandor!” Arya cried out with her hand slamming into the furs with exertion. He felt her walls flutter around his cock and her whole body convulsed around him, but he only held her steady while he still drilled into her.

“Shit, Arya,” Sandor groaned.

He let her ride it out while he kept going. She was panting loudly and still moaning and shaking. Her head was hanging down as if she was too out of it to hold it up any longer.

Sandor could feel his orgasm coming, his cock twitching in her cunt. He heard her moan again and realized that she was going to come again. Sandor beamed cheerfully, his ego inflated.

“I’m close,” he grunted.

“Gods,” Arya choked.

Sandor let his hand reach around her hip and slip his fingers between her legs and ran circles over the sensitive nub while he fucked her.

Arya came immediately when his fingers touched her. She cried out his name for a second time and Sandor followed shortly after, his hand coming down to slap her round arse in pleasure.

When they were done riding out their climaxes he slowly pulled out of her, groaning in the process of losing her tight, soaking, heat. When he let go of her hips he watched merrily as she collapsed onto the furs and rolling over onto her back looking exhausted. She threw an arm over her eyes and was trying to slow her breathing. He looked at her small tits rising and falling rapidly with her panting. Her hair was all mussed up from his hands pulling at it and there were red marks on her hips and thighs that would surely turn into bruises. The small patch of hair between her legs was still wet with her pleasure that he gave her. He felt his chest swell with pride that he turned her into such a mess.

Sandor chuckled and lowered himself onto his side next to her. He gathered her into his arms and rolled them so he was lying on his back with her draped over him. He then grabbed both their furs and threw them over their naked bodies.

Sandor chuckled again looking at how ravaged she looked and squeezed his arm around her side waiting for her breathing to slow before he spoke.

“You look like a woman who’s been fucked well,” he observed.

Arya snorted and lifted her thigh to wrap around his own and nestled her head further into his chest hair. Sandor lifted his arm and began running his fingers up and down her spine, feeling the bumps of her vertebras as he traveled.

Arya wiggled against him, “mmm… that tickles,” she murmured drowsily.

Sandor flattened his palm against her back and let his hand travel up and down her back causing her to hum in approval. After some time, his hand drifted down her back to her arse and gave it a gentle pat.

“Why you always doing that?” Arya asked.

Sandor glanced down to see she was looking up at him from his chest. Fuck, she was gorgeous when she was naked and pressed against him.

“Doing what?” he asked after blatantly looking her up and down in hunger.

“Touching and staring at my ass,” she said.

Sandor lifted the arm that wasn’t being used as a pillow for her head so it was under his own head, propping him up so he could look at her properly.

“Do you not like it?” He asked, moving his hand back up between her shoulder blades.

She moved her head back down so she didn’t have to look at him. He knew she would be bad at these conversations. He had no qualms talking about what he liked in bed but that was after years of bedding whores. She, on the other hand, was young, much younger than he. She would need time to gain the confidence to talk to him about such matters. Although he had no idea why her confidence would be lacking, he’d been with the most experienced whores in all of Westeross and they didn’t make him come as hard as he did with her moments ago.

“No… I mean… yes, I do. I just want to know why you’re always staring and grabbing at me,” she stuttered.

Sandor chuckled and lowered his head to kiss her on the top of her head.

“It’s a fine arse, girl. Better than fine. Been wanting to grab it for months. And since it belongs to me for the short future we have, I will grab it whenever I damn well please,” he said gruffly.

 Arya yawned a dropped the subject. She seemed to be satisfied with his answer because he felt a small smile form on her lips.

“Am I going to be able to fuck you again tonight?” he asked hopefully.

Arya grunted and rubbed his chest affectionately.

For some reason Sandor felt it extremely animalistic, like she was rubbing the belly of her dog to please him. He let out a loud involuntary growl.

“Wake me when you want to,” she said sleepily.

Sandor laughed and continued to rub her back. She snuggled more deeply into his side with her hand sliding over his chest and tucked into his side just beneath his ribs. She was completely wrapped around him and clutching onto him, which pleased Sandor far too much for him willing to admit.

Sandor woke Arya after only an hour or so later to repeat the act. He wanted this time to last a lot longer than the previous. He knew she would be sore in the morning having only been with one other man who no doubt had a smaller cock than him. So he fucked her slow and lovingly, interlacing their fingers together as he gently slid in and out of her.

She sighed his name in his ear and was arching up to him when she came this time. He was happy he was able to see her face when he did it the second time. It was something he would sketch into his memory forever.

\-----------

The sun woke him in the morning, shining through a hole in the small tent and directly in his eyes.

“Fucking whore,” he growled under his breath turning his head away from the light. He shifted his body away from the light dragging Arya with him.

He looked down and saw that neither of them moved throughout the entire night. They were both still wrapped up in each other tightly. 

Arya groaned and looked up at him clearly annoyed, “What in seven hells are you doing?” she growled at him. She placed her hands on his chest to lift herself up to get a better look at him.

She looked gorgeous in the morning sun. Even with her hair mussed up and her eyes half-shut from sleep.

“Fucking sun was in my eyes,” he said. “Go back to sleep, we still have a few hours before we need to leave,” he was already grabbing at her to pull her back down. When it was clear she wasn’t going to lay back on him Sandor huffed. _Stubborn little wench_. He moved his hand to tuck a stray hair away from her face. He caressed her cheek with his knuckles and then moved his hand to cup her cheek with his hand. His hand pretty well covered the entire side of her face she was so small.

Still holding his eyes, she took his palm away from her face and kissed it before pushing off his chest and sitting up.

Sandor waited until the furs slip away from her body and was rewarded with seeing those perfect round breasts, bare in the sunlight. Last night the moon shone bright enough that he could see glimpses of her body, but never actually seeing them in their full entirety until now.

She raised her arms above her head and stretched her muscles while yawning, baring her breasts even more.

Sandor growled and sat up immediately wrapping his arm around her ribs and lifting her so could kiss those young breasts.

Arya gasped and then laughed once, smacking him on the shoulder. “Stop it, Sandor. It will be better if we start early and get there before my brother does. The last thing we need is for us to miss our window because you wanted to get you cock wet,” she said. Although she tried to sound firm and angry, he could hear the humor and arousal in her voice and he grinned against her chest.

“You don’t make a very convincing argument,” he mumbled against her tits.

“I would’ve thought you had enough last night,” she said pushing him off her.

“I don’t think you understand how a man’s mind is mapped out,” he said letting her stand up. He watched as she began to stand, naked as her name day, and began to collect her clothes. He admired her arse for the hundredth time, finally being able to see her naked in the daylight was a relief. He placed both his hands behind his head and watched her appreciatively as she scurried around snatching her clothing off the floor still naked and beautiful. He also saw the bruising from his hands on her hips and thighs and smiled, he liked that.

He knew he wore the marks given to him by her as well. He could feel the spots on his chest where she fiercely bit and scratched him. He looked down and saw one right above his nipple. Aye, she gave that to him when he refused to fuck her faster last night. She squawked and wailed and when he didn’t give her what she wanted and she bit him in retaliation. Just like the little untamed wild woman that she was out of his bed.

He burned just thinking about it.

He looked back at her and saw that she was slipping her tunic over her head, breeches on and already laced.

He noticed the scars last night, but they were much more obvious in the light. She had many, not nearly as many as he did, but too many for someone of her age and social status. He wanted to ask about them all but thought better of it last night in the depths of passion.

“Wolf-bitch,” he beckoned.

Arya turned around and looked up at him from doing up her sword belt not moving from her spot in the tent. He noticed her hair was still down and he hoped she would keep it that way, even if only for one day.

“C’mere,” he said.

When she still didn’t move and was eyeing him suspiciously Sandor rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to bite you. In case you don’t remember that’s your fucking expertise,” he said motioning to the marks all over his chest.

Arya gave a wicked smile and walked over to him slowly and Sandor couldn’t help but grin back.

He was too tall to stand comfortably in the tent so he knelt before her when she came near. She looked at him with a horrified expression. Sandor looked back at her confused and then he realized what it looked like having a man kneel before a woman.

“Come off it, girl,” he snorted. “I’m nothing like that winging little shit you fucked and I never will be, now c’mere.” He was getting impatient with her now. He didn’t have all bloody day.

When she was within arms reach he grabbed her by the front of her sword belt and yanked her closer to him. He saw her big eyes rake over his naked body and he chuckled. Seems the little wolf liked what she saw because her hands went to his chest and slid up to his shoulders slowly. He kept his hands on her hips and looked up at her. Even with him kneeling his head was almost at her shoulders, fuck she was tiny.

His hands slowly began to lift her sark and tunic over her belly. Arya looked at him with a confused expression and went to stop him by grabbing his wrists. Sandor growled at her and she glared at him for a moment but let him continue to lift the material until her belly was exposed.

His fingers then traced the ridged scars that crossed over her porcelain skin. He knew these wounds. He had some of these wounds. He had never seen so many in one spot before though. Well, so many with someone able to tell the tale afterwards.

He looked up at her and he kissed one of the larger scars on her belly before softly asking, “Who did this?”

“The Waif in Braavos. I told you they tried to kill me,” she said.

“Dead?” he asked against her belly. Clearly not able to hide the bite in his tone at seeing his woman all scarred up from some faceless man horse shit.

“Obviously,” Arya answered her hand running through his hair.

“Good, because if you hadn’t I would turn and leave Gregor for the army and kill that little fucker myself,” he growled.


	14. Arya

They were two days time away from Kings Landing and Arya was already feeling her anxiousness kick in. She got this way whenever she was close to killing something. She just wanted to do it now and be done with it. She wanted to move on to the next task or name she had on her list.

They spent that last two and a half weeks in what she could only describe as pure bliss. In the morning she would wake up to Sandor snoring softly with her wrapped around him or vice versa. When she would wake up first she would stare at him sleeping peacefully for about an hour or so before she would wake him with kisses to his beard and face. He would always grunt and grumble a, “morning, wolf-bitch,” at her and run his hand through her hair. This would be followed by a bout of heavy petting and her insisting they get up and him insisting they stay in bed for a quick tumble.

When he woke first he had no issue of shaking her by the shoulder roughly and telling her he wanted her naked. She knew that subtlety was not his strong suit nor was being gentle, but she forgave him easily just by the way he would kiss her.

Arya and Sandor were pretty quiet for most days as they trekked on through the forest. Talking mostly and occasionally laughing but she was comfortable with it. That was what she liked about him. He never needed to fill silence with senseless prattle.

Her mind drifted to a fortnight ago when she first climbed onto his lap and kissed him. She remembered the feel of his hands on her skin and the sounds he made when she bit him for the first time. Since then, he had countless more welts from her teeth on his neck and collarbone, even more on his back from her nails digging into his skin.

In turn Arya had more bruises on her buttocks, thighs, and arms from him gripping her so tight. She even had few bruises on her neck from where he was sucking on her skin. Sandor had told her that he liked the marks they left on each other. It meant that everyone else knew that she was his for now and that he would leave the same bruises on their face if they touched her. Just to hear the possessiveness in his voice warmed her blood. Unconsciously she shifted the high collar of her coat up higher to cover the obvious purple spots on her neck.

He never tried to sugar coat things either, that was another aspect she liked about him. He always told her the truth of what was on his mind with effort to spare her feelings. He also had very little idea of what was appropriate or inappropriate truth to tell her. He always blurted out whatever he thought and it was truly a breath of fresh air for Arya. She never had to wonder what he was feeling because when she would ask he would tell her the truth.

One night she bagged a few rabbits that they later skinned and cooked over a fire. When she was done eating she began sucking the remnants off her fingers and he told her that watching her do that made his cock hard, and then just went back to eating. Like it was an entirely common thing to speak of.

In the evenings they would eat quickly and lay by the fire with both asking questions about the past few years. Things they saw, things they did, but they never spoke of things they wanted to do. Both had an understanding that things like that were probably never going to happen. Nor did Arya even want to think what happened if he died and left her on her own. _Again_.

While they were chatting Sandor usually opened a skin of wine and they would pass it back and forth until Arya refused anymore. He just continued to drink until she started kissing him or telling him to come to bed.

The nights were very similar to their mornings. In the first few days they were together she would always wince getting on her horse every morning. He was enthusiastic in his affections and although it made her happy that she was wanted, she needed to be able to ride her horse if she were to make it to Kings Landing.

For four mornings and nights she refused him so she could heal. In turn he just slithered down her body and buried his head in between her legs until she was crying out his name. It seemed as though refusing him only made him want her more. The first time she had to give him a little direction in where to place his tongue. It was clear he didn’t do this often, if ever. But he was a quick learner. Once he found the spot she desired and had his fingers placed where she needed them, he had her seeing stars.

She would return the favor by licking his cock. She had seen it in the brothels in Braavos and tried to mimic what they did. She would also go by the sounds that he made when she tried different techniques along with his gentle instruction. She would never think that pleasing a man with her mouth around his cock would arouse her but it did. It made her feel powerful that she could make a giant of a man like the Hound beg for her.

Arya was ripped from her memories when she heard a laugh from the distance far down the path. Sandor heard it too and brought his horse to a halt. His hand shot out to her wrist and squeezed it tightly.

Arya jerked her hand away from him but he didn’t let go of her wrist.

She glared at him and whispered, “We need to get off the path and out of sight. I can’t do that with you holding my arm like some girl.”

Sandor glared back at her and let go of her wrist quickly.

“Get in the bushes and don’t try and pull anything. I won’t have myself killed because of you trying to be a hero,” he snarled.

Arya glowered at him and they jumped off their horses and lead them far off the path into the woods. Close enough to see what was going on, but far enough away so the men would see them unless they were looking.

Arya saw five men appear casually strolling down the path all wearing Lanniser colors. They were big too, not quite as big as Sandor, but close. She started assessing ways to kill them, her eyes darting around the forest looking for any surrounding she could use. She knew they would be lurking around this path until the Queen said otherwise, obviously on some kind of patrol.

Arya felt Sandor’s big hand come down on her shoulder and give it a squeeze, holding her there.

“They have to die, Sandor,” she whispered. She looked up at him and saw he was also assessing the situation of the best course to take.

“Aye, I just didn’t want you running off trying to kill them all on your own,” he murmured back to her.

“I take them by the front and you by the back?” she asked. Her body was practically bouncing with excitement. Finally she got to kill something to satisfy her until Cersei tomorrow.

Sandor looked at her strangely for a moment before answering.

“No, I’ll take the front and you the back, you’re far better at sneaking up on people than me,” he said.

Arya and Sandor turned from each other without another word. She also liked that about him, he never underestimated her anymore and he didn’t try to make her into some poor pathetic girl that needed protecting.

Arya crept through the trees unsheathing her sword as quietly as she could. She was about a carriages length away from her victims and was itching for Sandor to make a signal. She even kept her breathing slow and controlled as her Braavosi training taught her.

Suddenly she saw Sandor appear from behind a tree and yell as his sword cut through the head of one of the men’s heads, slicing it clean off.

Arya took that as her cue to run up behind the men and slice his calves with her needle. She stood behind him and slit his throat from ear to ear. She heard a noise behind her and quickly fell to her knees avoiding a blow to the head. She somersaulted backwards between her next assailant’s legs and shoved her needle as hard as she could into his upper thigh.

The man screamed in pain and fell on all fours. She quickly kicked his sword away from him and looked over to Sandor and saw that he was finishing off the last of their assailants.

Arya turned back to the man that was trying to crawl away and she reeled her foot back and kicked him directly in the jaw, sending him flying to the ground. She turned him over with the toe of her boot and looked down at him. She pointed her sword to his neck, warning him that if he moved or tried to attack she would stab him.

“Fuck you!” the man screamed at the top of his lungs. Blood was gushing out of his mouth and nose and he turned his head to spit onto the path.

“We need to know how the Lannisters are guarding the castle,” she said calmly. “And if there is a way inside.”

She heard Sandor stomp over to her and grab her by the elbow and wrench her back to look at him.

“He won’t tell us anything,” said Sandor. “Just kill him and be done with it.”

Arya ripped her arm from his grasp and glared at him. She kept her scowl for five heartbeats until he finally swore under his breath and let her go with a tiny shove.

“Fine then! Waste our fucking time on this bloody nance, you wont get anything out of him.” He huffed.

The man was looking at Sandor with horrified eyes and then darted back to Arya. He jabbed a finger at Sandor, “You’re the Hound!” he yelled. He then pointed a shaking finger at Arya, “a-and… and… you’re Arya Stark!”

He started to crab crawl backwards and looked at her in disgust, “I know what you are, woman. They said you eat your prey like a wolf. They said you killed every single Frey there was and ate their children! You are an evil little cunt. An abomination!” He had completely backed into a tree as Arya continued to step forward following him.

“Aye,” said Arya. “And my big friend here will rape your corpse before I eat you too. Now tell us what we need to know and you may walk away with both your hands.”

She felt Sandor behind her staring a hole into the back of her head but she didn’t let it distract her from the task at hand.

“I hope Cersei kills you and your bastard brother! I hope she orders the Mountain to fuck you bloody with his fist!” he screamed, spewing blood and spit all over himself.

Arya was growing tired of this and knelt down to his eye level.

“If you don’t tell me I am going to kill you for certain and it will make the Frey’s look like a dream,” she said evenly.

The man looked at her skeptically and then looked behind her at the Hound. He finally began sputtering about Kings Landing. How the bridge was down for now to let merchants to pass through so the people wouldn’t starve. But as soon as they heard or saw a Stark or the Dragon Queen’s army they would lift it. He continued on to tell them of things they didn’t need to know like how many men and what kind of weapons and on and on he went.

Arya simply nodded her thanks and stood up from her crouch. She heard Sandor march over and slit the man’s throat letting out an angry grunt of exertion.

His head whipped back to her and grabbed her by the front of her jacket and lifted her off her feet. “My brother comes near you I want you to run, do you understand?” he snarled at her. “You don’t try to fight him, you run.”

“Ow! Let go you big bastard,” she yelled, kicking at his shins.

“Promise me first,” he growled not letting up.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll run,” she said.  “Now release me!”

He gently set her down on her feet and as she straightened her jacket and tunic back to normal she felt his eyes on her in that predatory look again.

“Do you know why he threatened my brother at you?” he asked quietly.

“Because he’s a walking tree that tries to kill everything in his path?” she guessed. 

He sighed and looked down at her sadly. He sheathed his sword and took her face in between his giant hands.

“Gregor had a wife you know. Several of them, and they’ve all died. He fucked them bloody over and over again. It was said that he raped one of them so many times that when she was found she was split in half,” he choked. 

He took a breath through his nostrils angrily. She could tell this was one of the few times that he was actually trying to keep his anger in check. She bumped her forehead against his head and kept it there.

“If he ever touched you I would tare him apart limb from limb,” he snarled.

Arya put her hands on his wrists. He was breathing a lot faster and through his nose. She never saw him look so furious.

“He’s not going to touch me because when I see him I am going to run,” she lied.

His eyes were closed and she felt him nod against her head. He believed her lie. Good. He didn’t need to know what her real plans were.

They stood like that for a short while before Sandor opened his eyes and glanced at her briefly, clearly done with the tender moment, and started to rise to his full height.

Arya grabbed him by the front of his tunic and pulled him back down to her height so she could kiss him proper.

She heard him grunt against her lips as she opened his mouth with her tongue aggressively. She wanted him to feel how much she cared for him. She wanted him to know how much it warmed her to know that he cared for her, even if they were only to be together while they traveled. She wanted him to know that he was the only one who truly knew who she was. Who truly understood her and her violent actions to get what she needed. She believed in only death and so did he. She wanted him to feel that in her kiss. She couldn’t say the words and knew he wouldn’t want to hear them; it just wasn’t their way.

Sandor responded almost immediately by placing his hands on the backs of her thighs and hauling her off the ground so she could wrap her legs around his waist. She moaned when she felt her back thump into a tree, locking her in between the unmovable wood and an unmovable Sandor. 

Her fingers threaded through his unkempt scratchy beard and to the sides of his face. She felt the raggedness of his scars on the side of his face and her eyes actually rolled into the back of her head, thinking of a warrior as great as him wanted to be with her.

He pressed his body tighter against her and she felt like her ribs may break from the pressure of it. She responded by clutching her thighs tighter to him, wanting fuse her body with his.

Their tongues were dancing together beautifully. Having weeks of practice, they knew each other’s bodies well enough to know what made one another’s toes curl.

Arya bit his bottom lip roughly and pulled making Sandor groan. He responded by grinding his hips against hers before pulling her away from the tree only to slam her back into it. She moaned and had to pull her face away from him so she could breath.

“Fuck, Sandor,” she breathed. She tilted her head back so he could have access to her neck, and Sandor began suckling and biting at it greedily making Arya see stars.

Her fingers turned to claws on his neck scraping down until she reached the collar of his jacket. She felt his hot breath against her neck as he panted in between kisses. She felt her breeches becoming uncomfortably wet from her core as he pawed and nipped at her. She grabbed his face with her hands pulled his mouth back over hers. His hips were now grinding into her roughly against the tree.

“Sandor,” she moaned again. “We…” she lost all train of thought when one of his hands slipped under her tunic and sark, his cold fingers touching her belly and continued to rise up her ribs.

Arya swallowed and tried to get a hold of herself but just found that she was spinning. She tried again.

“We… can’t their…. Might… be… more… Lannist-” her words caught in her throat when his fingers began circling her tits under her clothes. _Fuck it_ , she thought, and licked him from the crook between his neck and his shoulder all the way up to his ear, which she began to nibble on.

“Fuck sakes, woman,” Sandor groaned. “You’re going to be the death of us both.”  He pulled himself off the tree sill carrying her, and began walking further into the brush away from the path. 

Arya kissed him fully and deeply on the mouth before she moved back to his neck to prevent him from bumping into trees.

It seemed like he walked forever before he finally stopped and lowered them to the ground. She was straddling his lap again with her arms wrapped around his neck tightly. His hands felt up her body over her layers and squeezed her tits through the fabric roughly. Arya made a strangled noise in her throat.

“Too many fucking clothes,” he said.

“We can’t,” she mewled. “If someone comes...” she said. It was bad enough they were doing what they were doing now so close to such a populated road. If they were naked and had no amour or defense weapons on top of that, they would both surely die.

“Fine,” he barked. “But I am fucking you one way or another, girl so your pants need to come off,” he said against her lips with his hand already inside her pants, his fingers making their way down to the spot she craved.

Arya frantically began unlacing her breeches and standing up on shaking knees to shimmy them down. Sandor lifted her under her arms like she weighed nothing and helped her shuck them off. He then agitatedly undid a knot in his own laces and tried to take his cock out while he teased her cunt with his blunt fingers.

Arya mewled loudly against his neck while grinding herself harder into his fingers desperate to relieve herself of the pressure building. He grabbed her by a fistful of her hair roughly, just the way she liked.

“You need to be quiet, girl. Or every fucking Lannister is going to hear us,” he kissed her violently before pulling her away to speak again. “Not that I would mind dying by the sword with your tight little body wrapped around me, but I would still like to have the chance to kill my brother as well.”

When he released her hair Arya pulled away from him quickly and started pushing him to the side.

“Turn us around. I’ll ride you and then I can keep watch,” she whispered, panting.

His eyes were dark when he nodded and they shimmied their bodies around so she could have her eyes towards the rode. When she reached for his cock to position it in the right spot he grabbed her wrist and pulled it away.

“I’m not going to last long enough,” he bit out. “Let me play with you a little more.”

One of his hands slipped back in between her folds teasing her nub again and the other slipped under all her layers to fondle her tits.

Arya felt her head tip back to the blue sky as she held on to either side of his neck.

“You’re shit at keeping watch, girl,” he chuckled.

Arya’s eyes snapped open and she pressed her cheek to his temple quickly to keep her eyes where they were meant to be.

“Sorry,” she whispered breathlessly. “You just feel… so good,” she admitted shyly.

She felt Sandor’s chest rumble in pride as he picked up the pace with his fingers. She was squirming helplessly in his arms now. She just wanted that sweet release.

He pulled his hands away from her and grabbed her chin with one hand.

“Now sit,” he commanded. As if it was her that was the dog and not himself.

Arya, looked at him in warning, but grabbed his cock, positioned it appropriately, and did as she was told.

They both moaned in unison. And she slowly began to move up and down until Sandor started meeting her strokes with a rapid speed, ricocheting her body upwards and then using his big meaty hands around her waist to propel her back down.

Neither of them lasted long, maybe a dozen strokes or so before she was putting her hand over her mouth to muffle her cries as he gripped her hips harder with gritted teeth.

She collapsed against his chest as she came down from her high. Sandor lay back down on his back, pulling Arya with him. She rose and fell with Sandor’s rapid breathing. One of his hands still rested on her hips and the other was stroking her hair lovingly.

“Fucking shit, Arya,” he mumbled. “You really will be the death of me. I haven’t ever took a risk this stupid in my life.”

Arya pushed herself off his chest and saw that he wasn’t mad. Quite the opposite, he looked happy and quite pleased with himself. Arya smiled at him when his hand lifted up and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She leaned into his hand and kissed his palm lovingly. 

After their little adventure they got dressed, hid the dead bodies and jumped back on their horses. Both of them were in much better spirits. Arya notice Sandor was practically whistling as they made their way on.

That evening they stopped to make camp just outside Kings Landing.


	15. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay, so my plan was to post one per day, but these next two chapters I really want to get feedback so I'm just going to post them now. 
> 
> Lots of feels!
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments, you guys are so sweet! 
> 
> .
> 
> .

Sandor began unpacking quietly while Arya left to gather wood to make a fire. Their unspoken agreement always remained the same. Sandor would tend to the horses and make camp while Arya would tend the fire and make their food. This was the way they did things during their time together many years ago and it seemed that it remained the same now.

He finished feeding the horses and making camp early giving him time to sit and think about the next day.

Gregor was going to die if it meant giving his own life to do so. Sandor always knew he would be the one to put a sword through his belly if it was the last thing he did. It was the only thing he ever wanted really, at least that was before Arya.

He remembered a time when he was in the measters care, weeks after Gregor had held his face to the fire. His father visited him seldom, saying there was work to be done around the yard and farm and he didn’t have time to see him. His mother died giving birth to him so he was virtually alone during the time he was in medical attention.

The only other time (besides his father) that someone had visited him was Gregor. He showed up in the middle of the night like some fucking villain in a storybook. He told Sandor that this would teach him to play with his things. He told Sandor that this was a warning and not a death sentence, had it been he would not have failed and burning him alive. He told Sandor that the next time he touched something that belonged to him again he would tie him down and press a torch to his face until the screams stopped, and then slit a sword across his throat.

Sandor couldn’t wait to see his brother again. He couldn’t wait to knock that big, fucking head off his shoulders and watch him die a miserable death. Sandor just wished he could savor the moment and keep his brother alive for a few days, bleeding out. Just to hear him scream in pain as Sandor did so many years ago would warm him to his core. He wanted his brother to suffer. It was years that he begged the Gods for this perfect opportunity and now he was granted that wish.

His mind then drifted to Arya. She would be fine after he died he just knew it. There were plenty of other noble knights and warriors that she would find suitable as a partner. She may not be a lady but he knew she would eventually want some kind of a husband, someone to help her carry out her killing contracts with, someone like himself.

Gods, he still had that jealous rage that seeped through him as it usually did when it came to her. He hated the idea of her moving on from him after he died. He knew he was supposed to feel happy that she found comfort in another’s arms after he perished, but he still only felt malice. He admitted that he wanted her to feel that she could never be with another man that could love her so true and so thoroughly as the Hound.

Who was he kidding in any regards though? She was using him for the comfort in her bed. She never loved him; she had the same mentality of any man on the road with a willing participant. She was just looking to wet her appetite when there was no one else around to do so. She wasn’t interested in a future with him. She was interested in killing those who wronged her and nothing else, and she used him to do it, not that he minded in the slightest.

He was more than willing to be used if it meant being held in her arms and having her tight little body next to his at night. He had no problem at all. He just wanted to feel her warmth and feel her light radiate through him before he died. He knew she didn’t love him, why should she? She was a highborn that was half his age. He should be so lucky that she ever entertained the thought of having him in her bed much less welcoming him to do so.

He gazed to the north where Arya had disappeared to find wood. She was gone for a while, but he didn’t go looking for her yet. Sometimes she took a while to find dry enough pieces.

After a long while of sitting there Sandor became nervous. He was just about to get up when Arya returned into sight with a bundle of wood under one arm and two dead grouses under the other.

“Saw them standing there and couldn’t resist,” she said with a half grin. “Would hate for our last meal to be more fucking jerky and stale bread.”

Sandor couldn’t be more pleased. The only thing missing was wine.

“Aye, that’ll do, little-wolf,” he said.

She sat down and began gutting and dressing the birds while Sandor prepared the spit for them to be roasted.

He looked over her and watched as she concentrated on her knife work, examining the birds before cutting into them and making sure not to cut too much of the meat away from the flimsy dead animal. She was exact and precise when it came to such things.

“You think about how you’re going to kill him?” Arya asked, interrupting his thoughts not looking up from her work.

“Only fire can kill him from what I hear,” Sandor mumbled. He began re-sharpening the spit to distract him from his thoughts. “My best guess is that I throw him into a heap of fire.”

“Gods have a sense of humor if anything else,” she muttered.

Sandor grunted in agreement. He watched as she carefully removed the guts and held out her hand for the spits.

When he handed them to her his fingers brushed against hers and he could believe that he felt his cock twitch. Gods, he was becoming some horny green boy that could even be around her.

Arya carefully mounted them on a spit and placed them over the fire. Something he wished he could do with Gregor’s body.


	16. Arya

Arya could feel Sandor’s eyes on her all night, not that she minded at all. She simply went about cooking the birds as their last meal.

When she finished with them she handed him a bird and a piece of bread and they ate in a comfortable silence across the fire from one another.

Sandor finished before she did as per usual and she could again, feel his eyes on her as she ate. When she finished she threw the spit into the fire and lay down flat on her back to look up at the stars. She could feel herself dozing off for a moment when she heard Sandor grunt as he got up and his heavy footsteps nearing her. She opened her eyes to see him sitting down next to her and gathering her into his arms and moving her so she was sat between his legs with her back was pressed against his chest. Arya smiled at the sweet gesture of him wanting to hold her.

He always shocked her at how sweet he could be. Even now, his fingers were stroking her hair with a softness she didn’t think his calloused hands were capable of. If any of the brotherhood or Wildlings could see him now they wouldn’t believe it.

Arya didn’t know what love was, but she assumed it was probably, if not already, something like this.

Arya craned her neck to peer up at him under her lashes. His head was leaving against a log and his eyes were closed although she could tell he was not asleep.

Having must’ve felt her gaze he looked back down at her with suspicious eyes.

“What?” he grumbled.

Arya smiled and just shook her head. She turned around in his arms so she was straddling his lap and lifted herself on her knees so she could reach his lips to give him a soft kiss.

When they parted he looked at her sadly, “s’ gonna be strange after this you know,” he mumbled.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He shifted their bodies away from the log so he was laying flat on his back with her tucked against his side.

“If one of us lives. S’ gonna be strange going to sleep without someone to warm our bed,” he said moving his head back to laying on the ground. “S’ gonna be strange not having a small little thing wrapped around me with her claws in my chest.”

Arya snorted, “If I die I’m sure you will have no problems finding a whore my size to warm your bed.”

Sandor’s arm tightened around her almost painfully, “It wont be the same and you fucking know it,” he growled angrily.

Arya sighed and rested her head on his chest tiredly.

“I know it wont,” she whispered.

She knew he wouldn’t believe it if she told him she loved him. He would chalk it up to her death just beyond the horizon and she was trying to make him feel better. She knew he just thought this… thing… they had was only for the road and that she wouldn’t want him after that. Why should he think otherwise? He was beaten and kicked while he was down his entire life, why should he have hope?

She just wanted to make him feel wanted. She knew the pretty words meant nothing to him, it was the actions she chose that spoke to him.

Arya sat up and lifted her one of her legs so she was straddling him for the third time today. Sandor raised an eyebrow at her but she ignored it braced her elbows on either side of his head so she could look at him directly.

“Hello,” she said with an impish grin.

Sandor chuckled, “You want something from me, girl?”

“What do you think I’m going to do if I live through this and you don’t?” she blurted. She meant it as a rhetorical question but it came out as a real one.

Sandor stared at her blankly for a moment. He must’ve thought she would ask him something else entirely as he looked at a loss for words.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. He raised his hand and ran his fingers through her hair carefully considering his words before he spoke again.

“Your sister will probably make you marry some highborn cunt who is willing to kill with you and you’ll spend the rest of your days being happy with that… Maybe pop out a few pups in the process,” he added bitterly.

“You really think that?” Arya asked, smiling sadly at him.

Sandor grunted and removed his hand from her hair and placed it behind his head. “I never know what to think of you, girl,” he muttered darkly looking back up at the sky.

Arya rested her forehead against his temple gently and sighed.

“I know words mean nothing to you,” she said carefully. “But I really, really, hope you don’t die tomorrow because I like… being… with you,” she said, trying not to use any words she would regret.

Sandor grumbled something unintelligible before he spoke up.

“Fuck sake, girl. What do you want from me? You want me to tell you we’ll both survive and live like a happy couple in those fairy books your sister likes to read?” he asked sarcastically.

“No,” Arya answered immediately. “I don’t think that,” she mumbled quietly. She knew there was no way both of them would get out of that castle alive. She knew that after tomorrow one or both of them were not seeing the light of day again.

“Then what the fuck do you think?” he snapped, clearly annoyed with her unclear words.

She sighed. This wasn’t going very well. She removed her hands from the sides of his face and sat up, bracing her hands on his chest peering down at him.

“I’m saying that if you weren’t so fucking stubborn and tried to live for something besides vengeance you could… I don’t know. Just… be. And not have to worry about all the other shit,” she finished.

“You’re saying that you want me to try and live for _you_?” he asked sarcastically.

“No, I want you to live for you. You can still kill your brother and try to be happy after this is all over,” she said finally. “I know you’re happy with me and we’ve barely spoke about killing Gregor,” she said daringly. “I know it because I make you smile more than anyone else. I know it because you are always trying to wrap you arms around me the way I like. I just want you to continue to be that happy after I’m gone,” she finished finally.

Sandor lifted his hands and put them on her thighs. He didn’t look away from the sky and just lay there. She knew he wouldn’t respond with anything. It wasn’t his way to talk about things like feelings and such so she just lay down on his body and snuggled her face into his neck.

They lay there for a short while before she got up off him and held her hand out to him, motioning to the tent for bed.

Sandor took her hand and got up without a word. When they entered the tent they both got undressed without any rush. She was not shocked to find that when she turned around he was naked and climbing underneath the furs. She also stripped down naked as he lifted the furs for her to climb in next to him.

He kissed her and it was very, very slow, and very, very sweet. His hands were already roaming her body softly and hers did the same for him. She pulled away from his lips only to cover his entire face with small pecks ending on his eyelids.

When she finally pulled away he looked him dead in his hooded brown eyes, “I want you to make love to me,” she whispered with his face in between her hands.

To her surprise he didn’t snort or chuckle, instead he moved her hair away from her face “You don’t want me to fuck you?” he asked. No sense of humor in his voice, just curiousness.

Arya shook her head, “No, make love to me like it’s the last time you ever will get the chance.”

That night she held onto him tightly because she knew it was the last night she could do so. 

The next day they prepared to enter Kings Landing. 


	17. Sandor

Sandor woke in the morning feeling eerily calm. His life was always revolving around this particular day, the day he got to exact revenge on his walking corpse of a brother. He was fully prepared to die, has been for a long time. But after he and Arya’s conversation last night he wasn’t prepared for her to die. He didn’t want her leave this earth with a miserable shit like him.

He looked down to the young, half naked woman lying on his arm with her back pressed against his bare chest. His arm curled tighter underneath her pert breasts and he buried his head further into her messy hair.

Most women Sandor had felt were soft and fleshy. No muscle on them at all as they never had to do any actually manual labor. And although Arya still had the same softness as any other woman, she also had muscle from her years of fighting. Her arms were hard and her legs were sturdy. He liked her legs especially because she could ride him much longer than any other woman he bedded. She was strong and durable; she even liked it when he was a bit rough with her.

He remembered last night and his heart clenched. When they were normally together it was a rarity that Sandor was ever gentle with her. He never thought he had a reason to be because she was always so wild and unkempt. But last night was different. When she kissed him after her request it was slow and sweet. He knew that if they died he wanted her to know that she was well loved. So he granted her request and made it last as long as he could.

He never took his eyes off her as he kissed down her neck and in between her soft breasts. He kissed down to her belly and licked the scars there as if trying to erase them. He gently nibbled on her hips and made his way back up her body, only stopping at her breasts to give each of them the attention they deserved. He had the affirmation that she liked it when he heard Arya whimpering and squirming in his arms. When he finally began to make love to her he kept his fingers interlaced with his own and tenderly entered her with whispers of encouragement. She had her legs wrapped around him and she sqeezed his fingers tightly when he asked her if she liked what he was doing. The only sounds they could hear that night was his heavy breathing and Arya’s whining for him not to stop.

They repeated the act two more times that night, once prompted by Sandor and the other his wolf-bitch.

When they finally finished their rounds Sandor lay awake with her resting softly in his arms. He noticed that often after they had fucked she would fall asleep immediately after. He smiled at the fact that he was her substitute for milk of the poppy.

 _And a much better fucking alternative_ , he thought.

Several times throughout the night he was contemplating different ways he could keep her here, safe. He thought of tying her to a tree and paying a squire to fetch her when the war was over. He thought of leaving in the middle of the night without her and get to Kings Landing before her so he could kill both Cersei and Gregor in one go. It would be difficult, but not impossible.

He just didn’t want her to end her life when she was still so young. But he knew there was no way he could tell her to stay away. It wasn’t fair to her; she had every right to get revenge on the woman that caused so much pain in her short lifespan.

Arya began to stir in his arms and he just tightened his arms around her not wanting this moment to end.

She stretched out beside him like a cat would after a long nap and then squirmed closer to his body.

“Morning,” she said sleepily.

He lifted his head to kiss her on the temple lovingly, “Morning, little wolf.”

She gently ran her hand up and down the forearm that was squeezing her midsection before she interlaced her fingers with his.

They stayed like that for a while. Only listening to each other’s breathing and the birds chirping in the morning light. He pulled her closer to his chest as if trying to prevent her from leaving, he wanted to stay nailed to this spot for eternity if it meant keeping her safe.

Finally, Sandor knew they needed to get up for their last day on this earth and he squeezed her fingers gently.

“Time to go, Arya,” he whispered.

Arya nodded and they both untangled themselves to get ready for the day.

Sandor sat up and watched as Arya stood grabbing her breeches that were carelessly tossed to the side the previous night. He saw her reach for her tunic when Sandor chuckled behind her.

“I’m going to need my shirt back, girl,” he said amusingly.

Arya turned around looking confused and then looked down at the sark that reached down to her knees. She laughed once and crossed her arms to take it off and threw it to him. Sandor caught it and admired at her naked torso for the last time until she found her bindings for her chest.

They both dressed and readied their horses in silence, neither one of them really knowing what to say in a moment like this. When she was about to get on her horse Sandor grabbed her by the hand and gently tugged her to him.

“If you have a chance of getting out alive you need to take it,” he said seriously. “I don’t want you doing something stupid like waiting for me.”

Arya took the collar of his cloak in her hands and smoothed out the creases. She was looking at his chest and not in the eyes. She seemed to want to say something but was coming at a loss.

After a few moments he took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him.

“Did you hear me?” he murmured.

She smiled at him sadly and just nodded. “I wish things were different for both of us,” she mumbled.

“Aye, me too,” he said. “But they aren’t so for once in your stubborn ass life, just do as I say.”

She looked at him fiercely and gripped his cloak to pull him down for an aggressive kiss.

He put everything he had into that kiss. Like he would never kiss her again, because he knew he wouldn’t. She was equally as violent with the kiss as he was, biting at his lip and raking her nails down the back of his neck. His arm was tight around her waist he was almost worried he was going to snap her half.

When they finally parted he pressed his forehead against hers and stood there for a short while looking into each other’s eyes.

Not wanting any more potential to bail on their plans he ripped his head away from hers, turned his back to her and mounted his horse.


	18. Arya

When they reached the bridge to Kings Landing there were people everywhere. All of which were trying to get into the protection of the castle gates before the Northern Army attacked.

Arya was walking behind Sandor through the mass amount of people. Sandor then grabbed a woman by the shoulder and shoved her to the side.

“Move!” he growled as he pushed people out of his way.

Arya and Sandor moved quickly with the hoards of people to get through the gate. Arya refused to let her mind wander off to what she was thinking of last night. She kept her focus on one thing and one thing only.

_Cersei._

Her blood stewed at the thought of the woman. The very woman whose putrid evil diseased the entire Seven Kingdoms and loomed over Arya’s family. When the Queen first ordered her father to kill one of the direwolves, Arya knew that this woman was a malevolent cunt. Then she beheaded her father and stole everything good from Arya’s life. She knew that the only way to make this woman pay was a slow and painful death. Arya was practically bouncing in her step to get to that hateful bitch’s throat.

Arya glanced up at Sandor’s eyes hidden underneath the hood of his cloak. He looked just as focused as she did, if not more so. Arya grabbed the Hounds arm as they made their way through, not wanting to get separated from him. He latched on to her forearm as well, plowing through the crowd.

That’s when Arya heard the undeniable screeches of the Dragon-Queen’s babies flying over the boarders and burning the giant arrows used to kill them. Arya gritted her teeth.

 _The only thing that made that woman a great warrior was that she had some stupid fucking eggs gifted to her. She has no real skill_ , Arya thought bitterly.

If she got out of this alive she would have to think of a way to be clear of that patronizing woman, even if it meant leaving her family.

Arya saw the gates closing faster and she began to panic. She shoved Sandor forward as hard as she could while he shoved and pushed his way through like a wild boar. It was clear he had no regard for any of these people left behind and she didn’t either. She was going to save all of them anyway. She just hoped that the crazy Dragon Queen wouldn’t incinerate all these people before she had the chance.

They thrust through the gate and made it inside by the skin of their teeth, but just barely. Arya could hear the screams and cry’s of the people left on the other side to die. She knew there was nothing she could do for them, although she wished there was.

They both began marching to the south wall where Cersei hid in the castle tower. Neither of them spoke as they walked. Arya knew they both had their missions and they needed to focus on that.

People around them were running to find shelter. Arya and Sandor actually had to dodge and shift around people sprinting in the opposite direction they were headed, away from the castle that held the Queen. Doors were slamming shut, curtains were being drawn, men and women were scrambling to find anything to defend themselves. Arya saw a woman run past them with her baby tucked into her chest crying. The stench of the burning of wood mixed with flesh and hair hung in the air like a fog. The heat of the fire radiating over their heads was causing the sweat to form around her brows. Her ears hurt from the horrendous screeches of those bloody dragons the white-haired Queen loved so much and it made Arya want to vomit.

They were three quarters of the way to the castle when they heard the bells of surrender ringing.

“Rat cunt!” Sandor swore loudly under his breath when he heard the chimes.

Arya looked up and saw the dragon on the edge of one of the buildings with the white-haired Queen glowering at the tower Sandor and Arya were about to enter. No doubt she was thinking of still attacking even after they admitted defeat.

“This changes nothing,” Arya said in a fierce voice. She was _not_ about to stop the thing she was craving for almost a decade just because Cersei was a coward.

Sandor’s head snapped down to look at her. He looked furious but he gave her a quick nod and they continued to walk until they made it to the tower doors, cutting down any guards that came in their path. They both heard the dragon screech and felt the castle wall rumble.

 _So she is just as crazy as I imagined_ , Arya thought.

Arya figured Denary’s would be so petty to not accept something universally agreed upon amongst the Seven Kingdoms. Sandor was right; she was just as mad as every other fucking Targaryan. I guess they could call her the Mad Queen to match her father.

Arya took two steps at a time to keep up with Sandor’s long strides up the castle stairs. By the time they reached the middle base of the castle they were dodging falling rubble and trying to steady themselves on the shaking floor.

“There’s no use, girl,” he said panting. “She’s probably already dead,” he turned and put his hand on the back of her head and looked at her deeply.

Arya felt her eyes narrow and she knew what he was about to do. He was going to convince her out of going with him. He was going to make her give up her hate so she could leave unharmed. She could tell by the concern and panic in his face. She could tell just by the crease in his eyes and his downturned mouth.

Before he could get another word out she unsheathed her dagger and pressed it to his neck.

“You take this away from me and I will kill you before Gregor has a chance,” she spat.

How _dare_ he try and take this away from her.

Before he could answer she ducked under his hand and sprinted up the stairs. She heard him yell out her name but she refused to listen to him. She ran as faster than she ever had before. She would not let this woman die of fallen rock. She would die with a northerner standing over her corpse with a smile.

How _dare_ he go soft on her at the worst possible time.

She was halfway up the stairs with Sandor clanging behind her when she saw them. Gregor with Cersei right behind him and some old man that looked to be one hundred years old.

Arya felt her heart quicken, her palms grew clammy, the blood in her legs began to burn, and her nostrils flared at being face to face with this woman. She heard Sandor loudly running up the stairs behind her and when he reached her he stopped one stair above her with his arm moving her behind him.

The Mountain was just as big as she remembered if not bigger. He was definitely bigger than Sandor. Cersei’s head barely touched his elbows. He was massive. His eyes shown red through the helmet he wore. His shoulders looked like two big boulders and his hands were the size of a bear’s paws. He had a pale sickly whiteness to his skin that Arya knew was inhuman. His hulking figure made Sandor look small. She hated him. She wanted him dead and begging for mercy for the hell he put her family and Sandor through.

She knew she was to leave that to Sandor though. She would never take something like that away from him. But she was worried in him taking on this creature by himself. She wanted to help him but her own hatred was burning within her so hot it could melt steel.

“Hello, big brother,” Sandor growled.

The old man began throwing a fit when Gregor refused to move with Cersei and Arya watched in amazement when he threw him into the wall like a ragdoll. Clearly Gregor had been waiting for this moment just as Sandor had.

Cersei looked between the three of them and made her way past the Clegane brothers. Arya was surprised when Sandor let her pass him.

“She’s all yours, wolf-bitch,” he said with his eyes never leaving his brother.

Arya looked at Sandor for one moment longer and then turned her back and ran to Cersei. She caught up to her easily and pushed her down the stairs face first. She watched in delight as the Queen tumbled and rolled down the steps until she slammed into a wall where the east and north stairs met.

Cersei groaned and when she rolled over with her nose bleeding.

Despite the castle crumbling around her Arya walked down the stairs with an ease and deadly calmness she learned in Bravos. As she took each step she savored the sight of the Queen struggling to stand on her feet and crying out in pain while cradling her arm.

“Who are you?” the Queen demanded.

When Arya didn’t answer her Cersei seemed to take it upon herself to guess.

“One of those unsullied rats that dragon whore loves to associate with,” she yelled and tried to back away down the steps without falling.

Arya lunged forward and brought her sword down over the arm she was cradling, severing it clean off. Araya happily listened to the screams of the Queen as she collapsed to the ground. Her blood sprayed everywhere including all over Arya’s feet and breeches. A small nub replaced the skin and bone that was once her arm. She relished in the tears the Queen had streaming down her face, for Arya herself had shed her fair share because of the woman before her.

Arya crouched down next to the screaming Queen and whispered in her ear, “My name is Arya Stark. Daughter of Eddeard and Catelyn Stark, sister of Robb Stark, all of which you killed to get this precious crown on your head.” Arya took the crown out of her short golden hair and chucked it out the hole in the wall.

Cersei was staring at her in disbelief, still whimpering and crying over her lost arm. She then suddenly turned angry and glared at her.

“No doubt a disgusting little heathen like you would end up like this, with the Hound no less,” she spat. “You will surely die for this. If not by my men than you will be this castle collapsing!”

Arya smiled and brought her sword down on her leg this time. Just by her calf, severing it as well.

“I plan on it,” Arya said and she listened to the sweet screams and wails of the Queen bitch as she looked down at her severed leg in disbelief.

Something caught the corner of her eye and she saw Jamie Lannister running towards her with his sword raised ready to attack. Arya easily ducked and bounded away from his first blow. It was clear he was fighting in anger and it reflected poorly in his sword work. He did however manage to slice her thigh open when she tripped over a rock and stumbled.

She swore under her breath and glared up at him. She should’ve never underestimated him. What a stupid mistake. But he lunged forward in anger and Arya twirled away from him esily, although her leg was screaming in pain.

Arya remembered from Jaqor that any time you fight in anger you risk making mistakes. And Jamie made a grave one when he allowed Arya to lead him to the edge of a blown out hole in the side of the stairs. She lunged and stabbed him in belly. He cried out and staggered backward falling head first over one hundred feet for all the people of Westeross to see.

Arya heard the Cersei scream at her fallen lover and turned to face the young warrior. Arya sheathed her sword and kicked Cersei square in the face sending her backwards down the stairs.

Arya trotted down the steps to the Queen screaming in pain. She then stood over her from behind and grabbed her by her short golden hair. Arya took out her small blade and leaned into her ear.

“I want you to know I wish I could’ve watched your son’s neck burn with acid as he choked on his own vomit,” she whispered. “I wish I could’ve watched as the clergy marched you through Kings Landing, naked and covered in piss and shit.”

The Queen screamed and tried to jerk her head away but Arya only increased her grip on her hair.

“I didn’t get to see all that, but I do get to see this,” she said. “I just want you to remember that when you reach the gates of hell, you know who sent you there.”

Arya then let her dagger slit Cersei Lannister’s throat from eat to ear. Her blood spilled all over Arya’s hands and arms, but she reveled in it. She felt a weight being lifted off her shoulders as she watched the Queen slump to the ground and roll down the remaining steps.

She stood there for a moment through the shaking of the stairs and the stone falling around her, just to feel relieved that this was finally over.

Arya came back to reality when she heard a grunt with swords clanging above her. She turned around to hear Sandor yelling at his brother.

Without a second thought Arya broke her promise to Sandor and darted up the stairs to get to the Clegane Brothers.


	19. Sandor

Sandor was enraged as he fought his older brother. The only sound his brother made was the sickly breathing noises that escaped his throat on occasion and the steel that clanged as his sword met Sandor’s.

He couldn’t believe how ugly he had become. Those red eyes seemed to bore into his soul, the puss that was being released from his stitches had a putrid rotting smell that made Sandor want to gag. His height seemed to be the only thing that still resembled only thing that was once his brother.

Sandor’s sword met his and he felt like his hands might fall off from the power of the vibrating steel. Sandor raised his sword again to hit Gregor in the chest but it met with his brother’s and twisted incorrectly and Sandor knew he was fucked. Both swords clanked as they fell out of both the Clegane brothers’ hands and bounced down what was left of the castle steps.

He had a good chance at beating him in a sword fight. But hand to hand combat? Gregor could rip him in half with his bare hands. Sandor knew this was where he was to die.

Gregor punched him and Sandor fell to the ground, groaning in the process. Gregor then grabbed Sandor by the neck and lifted his feet off the ground. Sandor felt his brother’s sausage-like fingers press into his eyes and he screamed in pain. He knew he only had a few more seconds before his brother crushed his head like a melon so he grabbed his dagger and slammed it into his brother’s head as hard as he could.

Sandor fell to the ground when his brother released him. The pain in his eyes was unimaginable. He felt the blood seeping from his eyes slowly. He at first thought he was blind, but then when his vision slowly began to come into focus and he saw his brother pull the dagger out of his face.

Sandor groaned in anger.

“Why don’t you just fucking die?!?” Sandor yelled at him.

Out of nowhere he saw a small figure run behind the Mountain and saw a tiny sword swing down and cut Gregor’s hand clean off. Black tar oozed out of the stump and Sandor could smell it from where he sat, it smelt of burnt hair and rotting flesh.

 _Arya_.

Sandor’s heart thudded in his chest and an inexplicable fear engulfed his body. The fear of losing her outnumbered the hatred he had for his brother tenfold. He felt his breathing hitch and his legs went weak. What the fuck was she doing here? She promised to leave when she killed Cersei and here she was like the dumb bitch she was trying to save him.

He watched in horror as Gregor suddenly turned and his bleeding arm smacked against her tiny head and she flew into the wall, inches away from the giant hole in the wall.

Sandor froze and waited for her to get up as Gregor turned back to face him. When he saw her groan and roll onto her side she quickly scrambled to her hands and knees behind the older Clegane brother. Blood was pouring out of her head from Gregor’s blowand her chest was heaving in excersion.

She made a motion with her head and suddenly Sandor understood.

The foot of the town was engulfed in dragon flames. Behind Gregor was a giant hole in the wall leading to the flames. Arya was using her body to act as a rope to trip Gregor into falling to his death. She was helping him to finally kill his brother.

Sandor roared out in a rage and used all his body weight to slam into his older brother at the waist and throw him out the hole in the wall.

Sandor was fully expecting that he would follow Gregor to his death as there was no force to stop him from falling. But he didn’t expect that he too would fall over Arya and slide to the edge of the chasm with his legs and hips still rooted on solid rock.

Sandor watched from above as his brother fell down the hundreds of feet into the flames set by the Dragon Queen.

_It’s finally over._

Sandor was so focused on his brother dying that he didn’t notice the rock was collapsing even more than before. He was still lying on his belly with his torso hanging out of the castle and his legs only secure with what felt like tiny hands around his ankles. His hands were braced on the outer castle wall with him uncomfortably feeling the heat of the flames on his scarred face. He tried to move back inside but any move he made just led to the wall to crumble more.

Sandor swore under his breath and was fully expecting to fall into the very fait he was running from his entire life, fucking fire.

He then felt those same tiny hands on his ankles that was pulling him back inside carefully not to disturb the fragile wall of rock. He heard his wolf-bitch groan in exertion as she yanked him back carefully onto the staircase where he was just fighting his brother.

Sandor coughed and sputtered from the smoke he rolled onto his back already feeling something was broken. He quickly looked up and saw Arya leaning against the railing and crawling to her feet to get up. The side of her head was bleeding and she was covered in dust and rock.

She looked at him with such fierceness when she said: “Get up! We have to move!”

Sandor wasted no time rush to his feet with her to run down the collapsing stairs.

Rock continued to crash down around them and several times he had to wrap an arm around Arya to stop her from running straight into a pile of falling stones.

They were sprinting down the stairs at a speed Sandor no longer thought he was capable. Sandor saw Cersei with her throat slit and missing an arm and a leg. And he couldn’t help but feel a little proud at his little wolf. Arya stopped him by grabbing his hand right beside the dead body.

“Sandor! Quick, take her head! I’m not strong enough! That Dragon Queen will want it and I can use it to get Jon away from her!” Arya cried.

Sandor just stared at her not understanding.

“Sandor! Hurry!” she screamed.

Sandor huffed in annoyance that she would waste her time with such political nonsense. But he, always being the loyal dog, reached for his sword and brought it down over the former Queen’s head. Arya grabbed it and stuffed it into the small bag she was carrying.

When they finally made it to the base they ran towards the gates into Kings Landing still trying to dodge the falling rubble caused by the white haired queen.

Sandor ran though the crowded streets of Kings Landing as fast as his legs would carry him. He pushed people out of their way and was about to make a sprint through an opening of people when Arya slammed into him forcing him to crash into a wall. He was about to yell at her when he saw a giant boulder come crashing down to right where he was standing. She then twisted around his body, grabbed his hand and pulled him along.

After a few chaotic minutes of dodging through falling stones and debris Arya came to a sudden stop.

“The fuck you doing?” he yelled at her.

She was running towards a young woman and her daughter and telling them to come with her. _Seven fucking hells_ , she hadn’t changed since she was a child. She was still stupidly kind to those weaker than her.

She was towing the young woman and urging them to follow her. They continued on until a huge piece of wildfire blew up above them sending Sandor and Arya crashing opposite walls.

Of course that fucking woman used the last of her wildfire with total and complete disregard for her people. Although it comforted a little that his little-wolf was carrying her severed head in her bag.

He tasted blood in his mouth and knew that his ribs were broken. His eyes were immediately in search of Arya and he saw her small body running towards hobbling upwards from the opposite wall she was thrown against. She was coughing from all the dust and holding her side in pain, but otherwise looked ok. Sandor thanked whatever gods were watching her and got up with difficulty.

“Let’s move!” Arya yelled at Sandor and the woman who was next to her on the ground.

The streets were packed jam tight with people. Women were screaming and babes were crying, all of them trying to reach shelter or make a run for it to the gates.

Sandor heard one of those fire-breathing shits shrieking right above their heads. He and Arya stopped and watched in horror as it set fire the building around them and in turn, setting off another bomb of wildfire.

Sandor saw the burning rubble falling towards them before Arya did. He ran and shoved her into a pile of rocks and then everything went black.

\-----------

Sandor woke-up coughing. He felt as though couldn’t breath properly. He was gasping for breath trying to get oxygen but just inhaling more dust. He rolled from his back onto all fours and spat out a considerable amount of blood. He stayed there on all fours heaving and coughing for quiet some time before he finally felt able to stand.

He saw blood dripping from his head and eyes hit the ground, the bright red crimson looking vivid against the white ash and dust on the ground. When he breathed he felt pain and groaned, knowing he broke even more ribs. His hand felt like it was hit with a hammer and he figured that was broken too. He first rose to one knee and when he realized his legs were fine he stood to full height. He was shocked that he was still even alive.

His mind then went immediately to Arya. His head whipped around left and right franticly but all he could see was that bloody dust. He started screaming her name over and over again but no one was answering. The streets were empty and it appeared the war was over, not a soul in sight. In his hysterics he sprinted towards a pile of bodies and started hauling each one off in search for her.

He had never been so afraid in his lifetime.

He swore to the Gods that the Dragon Queen would pay for this. He would tie her to a bed and scalp that pretty white hair right off her head. He would pull those delicate and well-groomed fingernails off before chopping off her hands and feet all together. The burning rage he felt for his brother was nothing like what he felt now. He let out a furious roar and slammed his already broken hand into a wall. He then started flat out punching the wall over and over again, willing it to break, to destroy something, to kill anything.

“Sandor!” he heard her yell.

Just like in a dream, Sandor turned and saw her hobbling towards him through the dust. She was holding her side and her head was bleeding even more than what it was previously. Her lip was split in two places and blood was seeping out the side of her mouth. But her grey eyes were open and she was alive. That was all that mattered to him.

Sandor rushed over to her and pulled her into a tight embrace for which she yelped out in pain. Sandor immediately dropped her and took a step back, looking at her in dismay.

“It’s not you,” she said annoyed. Her voice was scratching and let out a ragged cough.  “My ribs are fucked.” She coughed again and gasped for air at the same time as Sandor.

“Come on, girl. We have to keep moving,” he said.

They began walking, well, hobbling really, towards the gates. There was still not one single living person in sight.

Arya suddenly stopped mid-stride. She was staring a dead body in what looked to be concern. Now she suddenly decided to be concerned for the dead?

“Girl,” he barked. “We need to keep moving.”

When she didn’t budge he saw her still staring at the dead body. He glanced briefly at it and then he understood. It was what was left of the child and mother, their bodies burnt black and still smoldering. When he glanced back at her he saw her face was filled with sadness.

He put his hand under her chin and forced her to look away from the bodies and to his eyes.

“There’s nothing more you can do for them, Arya. You did what you could,” he wheezed, the smoke still built up in his lungs. 

Arya ripped her chin away from his hand and pushed passed him. He knew her better than anyone and he knew she was furious. He wondered who was going to see the end of her blade first in this mess, but regardless, he would be right next to her.

As they made their way they saw a stray white horse. It was as though the Gods were smiling down at them, Sandor thought. He lifted Arya carefully so as not to disturb her injuries and jumped on the horse behind her. He kicked the horse gruffly and they took off towards the gates of King’s Landing.


	20. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it! 
> 
> I love Arya as a total badass. I need more of her threatening people, so much fun to write. 
> 
> Again, all of you are so sweet for commenting. It definitely makes writing new chapters easier!

When they arrived back at base camp Sandor insisted Arya be checked by the maester before she was to reunite with her family. Arya watched in an almost amused expression as the maesters’ hands shook while tending to the cut on her head with Sandor towering menacingly above him with his arms crossed over his chest.

The old man had already had his scare when he heard Sandor growling as he sewed up the cut on her head and leg. Rather than getting her to take her pants off he actually had to cut a large hole in her breeches instead because of the frightening noises that escaped Sandor’s throat.

“Ser,” said the maester. “I have to check the wounds under her sark.”

“So go on and do it then,” Sandor growled.

“Ser,” the maester said in a shaking voice. “She is a lady of Winterfell. It would be inappropriate for you to see her in such undress.”

Arya actually had to stifle a laugh with a cough. If only he knew exactly how many times and how many angles Sandor had seen her in an inappropriate state of undress.

Sandor shot the maester such a filthy look that he quickly continued with his work asking Arya to lie on the table and lifted her clothes to expose her belly.

“Oh my,” said the maester, clearly referring to the numerous scars littered across her abdomen.

Arya’s fingernails dug into her palms as they always did whenever a maester had to tend to her. At least Sam knew not to mention it after the first time he saw them. She wished it was him tending to her now so she wouldn’t have to hear all the fucking comments surely about to follow.

“My Lady, what’s happened to you?” exclaimed the maester.

“Was stabbed,” Arya said flatly.

“My Lady, you must let me do a more thorough examination of you. Or at least give you some blends to help you! Surely you know this will effect your fertility.”

When Arya didn’t answer he continued to babble on as his hands started prodding her ribs.

“I mean of all the things! A lady of Winterfell to have stab wounds, I have never heard of such a notion. You need to make sure you are able to bare children! Why, you are not a true woman if you can’t bare future kings!” he said, practically in hysterics.

Arya was squeezing her eyes shut trying not to cry out as his bony pale fingers continued to poke and prod at her broken ribs. She clenched her hands into even tighter fists feeling blood start to spill out of the cuts her fingernails were inflicting.

Suddenly his fingers were yanked away and she heard an audible gasp. She opened her eyes to see Sandor clutching the old man’s wrist and baring his teeth at him like an animal.

“I suggest you speak to the lady of Winterfell with a little more respect, _maester_ ,” Sandor snarled through clenched teeth.  “She is most definitely still a woman and I don’t think she needs the approval of some old, senile, man with a useless cock unless it’s in the presence of death and sickness.”

The maester sniveled at the grip Sandor had on his wrist.

“Now, she obviously has broken ribs. Give her something for it and then we can be on our way,” he spat, throwing the maester back with a grunt.

The maester quickly fumbled about and wrapped Arya’s ribs and gave her something for the pain. When it was Sandor’s turn the maester worked quickly and silently.

Sandor needed his left hand and ribs wrapped and was told to stay away from fighting as his shoulder was overstressed as well. Sandor grunted and took the pain medication with and they were out the door in seconds.

“I think you made that poor man shit his pants,” Arya snickered.

Sandor grunted, “Stupid fucker need to mind his tongue before I chop it off.”

They continued to walk until they reached the doors of the councilmen’s quarters. Just as she was about to open the doors Sandor took her hand.

“This is where I leave you, girl,” he said.

Arya’s heart raced and she felt her head snap up to look at him.

“What do you mean?” she asked. Trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

_Was he leaving for just a few hours? Or was he leaving her forever? Now that he could find whores did that mean he no longer needed her to warm his bed? Was he deciding that their time of bliss was to come to a permanent close?_

“I am not royalty. I shouldn’t go in there,” he said.

Arya felt her anger begin to bubble up at the thought of him trying to leave her.

“They will reward you for helping one of the ladies of Winterfell stay alive,” she said in alarm. “Not to mention helping me kill the queen,” Arya said.

“I’ve spent my entire life in these fucking meetings. I don’t want to be apart of another,” he grumbled.

“Please?” Arya asked pathetically. “You forget I was apart of these meetings for a large part of my life as well. I need you there with me,” she said, undoubtedly embarrassed.

Sandor glared at her for a moment before swearing under his breath.

“Fuck sakes, fine!” he relented. “But don’t think you can bat your eyelashes and get what you want from me every time, girl,” he barked. “I am more than accustomed to beautiful women starting wars by manipulating idiot men, and I am not one of them.”

With that he raised an arm over her head and shoved the doors open.

Arya instantly went stoned faced when she saw the Dragon Queen crowded around a table with the imp and her brothers and sister.

Jon ripped himself away from the table and sprinted towards his sister at the same time she ran towards him. She threw her arms around his neck and he lifted her off the ground by her waist.

“I thought you ran off again,” he whispered to her. “When we were in Winterfell we searched high and low for you. Then when that blacksmith boy told us you had left with the Hound I knew you were leaving to finish off that list of yours,” he breathed worriedly.

He set her back down on her feet and looked up and down at her. He cupped her cheeks with his hands and looked into her eyes concerned.

“Are you alright?” he asked plainly surveying the damage done to her face.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

“How about you?” she asked and he nodded that he was also unhurt.

Relieved that he was well, Arya looked to Sansa who had walked around the table to join them. She quickly put her arms around Arya, clutching her to her chest.

“You need to stop running off without telling anyone,” Sansa scolded gently.

“You need better watchdogs to keep an eye of whose coming and going from Winterfell,” Arya quipped.

Sansa smiled and released her enough to look at her face. Arya saw disapproval and touched her split lip softly but didn’t say anything else.

Arya watched as her sister’s eyes looked over her shoulder and at Sandor.

“Thank you ser, for shielding my sister during her journey,” Sansa said gracefully as the ever-proper woman she was born to be.

Sandor snorted at her and looked away clearly in aggravation. “She is well equipped to shield herself, my Lady. I was on my way to Kings Landing on my own when she insisted she come with me,” he said.

“Regardless,” Sansa said. “Thank you.”

Sandor gave her a curt nod of acceptance and folded his arms across his chest. He was clearly done talking for now.

They all heard a dainty ‘ahem’ behind the reunited family and they looked to see the Dragon Queen looking at Arya in somewhat disapproval.

“So you abandon your family to go and complete your kill contracts,” the Targaryan Queen said evenly. “One may think that could be treasonous considering we could have used your skills on the battle field.”

Arya glared at the woman for a short while before she marched over to the table she was standing behind. Arya then ripped open her satchel and yanked out the head of Cersei Lannister by her short golden hair for the Dragon Queen to see. Arya slammed the decapitated scull on the table of all her clean, white papers and braced her hands on the table.

“Kill contracts that include the very woman you were looking to overthrow,” Arya said in a deadly quiet tone. “But perhaps you were too busy engulfing young mothers and their babes in flames to notice.”

The Queen looked down at the head in disgust for a moment before her eyes rose to the young Stark slowly.

“Well done, Lady Stark,” she said. “You should be so proud that you have the luxury of coming and going as you please.” The white-haired woman walked around the table and looked down at Arya in a dismissive cast of her purple eyes. “I should hope in the future, when we arrange for you to wed another highborn, that he shares your same interest of travel.”

Arya didn’t let her see her complete and total terror when she said that.

After her brother and the queen had their little tumbles in bed he must’ve let it slip that Arya was no lady nor did she desire to be one. Arya knew that Jon was weaker than her, but she didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to tell this power-hungry wench all of their family’s dirty laundry. She told him that being forced into marrying some worthless highborn was one of her biggest fears because it was a prison she could never survive.

She wanted to gut this woman from her cunt to her scalp with her needle right there in the councilman’s chamber for all to see.

Arya did not let her stone face slip even a fraction. She heard the unmistakable shuffling of Sandor’s heavy feet on the stone floor coming closer to her.

Arya quickly decided that now was not the time nor place to gut the queen. If her brother were so firm on setting the Seven Kingdoms into complete chaos then she would let him.

 _Let him learn to lead with his head rather than his cock_ , she thought bitterly.

It made Arya nauseous but she quietly bowed before the queen in acceptance. “If that will be all my Lady,” she said with a cold voice. Without waiting for an answer she turned and left the room without another glance.

Sandor did not follow.

 


	21. Sandor

Since the day the Targaryan Queen threatened Arya with marrying her off to some lord, she was almost non-existent in the camp. Sandor barely saw her at all; sometimes it was like she was a ghost or a distant memory.

On the first day Sandor let her cool off. He needed time to compose himself and get his head on straight as well. He knew that he could fuel her anger with his own and it could lead them to doing something they both would regret. The threat infuriated him just as much as it did her. He hated that woman, almost more than he hated Gregor. She was attempting to take away the only thing that brought him happiness. That Dragon Queen was trying to force her into doing something she didn’t want to do and it made him want to break her dainty little hands.

She was threatened by the fact that his woman could gut her like a fish and no one would know that it was her that did it. His woman could wear Walter Frey’s face if she wanted and kill that spoiled little brat and everyone would think the old man came back from the dead.

Sandor stopped himself from thinking in those terms. She was not his woman. He _had_ to stop thinking that. Their little tryst was only to last for the duration of their travels, he was sure of it. The minute they entered Kings Landing they were no longer to be associated with one another. She didn’t want to be around him after the smoke had cleared and the flames were put out.

He had only seen brief glimpses of her in the past two weeks. The only time he could guarantee seeing her was when she came into the hall to get food. In all honesty, it was the best part of his day. She would typically grab a plate of food and a flagon of wine and retreat to some secretive place. He knew this because he went to her room several times and even entered it to find it empty.

On the fourth day he finally caught her training in public in the yards with some of the men. He could tell the most of the men were inferior to her fighting skills as she dodged and leaped away from their blows. He forgot how graceful she was the way she pounced on these men when the moment was just right. He watched her from a distance for hours until she excused herself and disappeared around the corner back to her hiding.

On the fifth day he saw her in the yards again and watched her from a distance.

 _Just like some fucking lovesick green boy_ , Sandor thought. When she was finished he couldn’t help but follow her.

When Sandor had caught up to her he grabbed her by the shoulder and yanked her back. To his shock she didn’t try to defend herself or resist the sudden jerk of her body. Did he actually manage to sneak up on _her_ for once?

“You lost your touch, girl. I could’ve been anyone,” he said.

Arya glared at him and yanked her body away from his touch. He would never admit it, but that hurt him more than she could ever know.

“You’re a big bastard; I saw you when you first came to the yards. Plus, you are shit at sneaking,” she snapped. 

Sandor leaned back and evaluated her. She was obviously angry he just wasn’t sure if it was directed towards him or the Dragon Queen.

“Were you ever going to come find me?” he asked, aggravated.

“What for?” she asked with malice in her voice. “What? For me to spread my legs for you so you can get a final fuck in before you disappear and become a sell-sword?” she growled. “Didn’t you hear? I’m to become a blushing bride to some old, fat, lord who probably hasn’t used his sword in years!” She looked like she was trying not to cry, but she continued. “Or better yet, maybe I’ll be a highborn runaway and go just back to the House of Black and White, carrying out kill contracts of innocent men and women. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get to kill some babes while I’m at it!” He could see tears in her eyes but she stubbornly refused to shed them.

He only recalled her crying one other time and that was when she saw her brother the night of the Red Wedding.

He made to reach for her again to hug her or do something to comfort her and stop her sadness. But when his hand touched her elbow she shoved him with both her hands. With their size difference he barely moved.

“I bet they can even train for me to become as cold and heartless as that fucking Waif. I bet I’ll be great at forgetting everything I love just to avoid being forced to warm some idiot’s bed.” She said lowly.

Sandor knew she was angry over the threat the Targaryan made, but he didn’t know she was this upset. The tears in her eyes were threatening to overflow and her bottom lip quivered slightly. He hated that face she made. He wanted her sadness to end. Usually tears made him uncomfortable, but right now they made him angry. He wanted whoever caused them to drown in piss and shit.

He reached for her again and she slapped him across the face before he could even put his hands on her.

“And I am not your whore you drunken shit,” she snarled at him. “You can find someone else to satisfy your needs now since it’s no longer just the two of us.” 

Sandor stepped back in shock. He would never think that she was a whore; it almost angered him that she would refer to herself in such terms. Hells, he was the one that essentially begged her to come to his bed. And he didn’t want anyone else. He only wanted her. He was realizing that she must’ve thought that he only wanted her for the duration of their travels and not permanently.

 _Would that be something she’d want?_ Sandor thought.

“Arya…” he started but was interrupted.

“And I don’t need your fucking pity!” she spat and turned away from him and practically running away. Sandor was left alone in the narrow passageway completely flabbergasted on what to do. He eventually felt himself slump against a wall and tried to squash the feeling that he may have just lost her forever.

That night he drank until he couldn’t see straight and staggered to his room. Everything in the room reminded him of her and he hated it. He hated the fireplace that reminded him of when she would ready the fire so he wouldn’t have to be uncomfortable. He hated the table because it reminded him of Inn where she placed the flagon of wine right before their first kiss. He hated the walls because that reminded him of the kisses and moans that were concealed in their tent walls during their travels. And he hated that fucking painting on the wall because it depicted a grey-colored sky that was the same color as her eyes. But most of all he hated that fucking bed because it reminded him of how cold it was without the warmth of Arya lying on his chest.

In a drunken rage he destroyed everything in that Gods forsaken room. He unsheathed his sword and slashed the painting in two. He tried to break the table by swinging his sword like an axe, and when that didn’t work he dropped the sword and threw it across the room, breaking it into tiny splinters as it ricocheted against the stonewalls. He ripped the sheets and threw the mattress to the floor. He grabbed his sword again and began hacking away at the mantel above the fireplace with a roar and craze-filled eyes. He wanted everything that reminded of him of Arya fucking Stark destroyed.

He remembered slumping against the wall tiredly with his chest heaving with ragged breaths. He was tired, drunk, and all he wanted was his wolf-bitch to crawl into his lap again. He never felt more pathetic in his entire miserable existence.

That was a week and a half ago. Every day since then he would train until his palms were raw and bloody or until he ran out of opponents. At night he would drink until he stumbled to his room and passed out on the floor or chair but never his bed. That was a special place meant for Arya and himself. He vowed never to sleep in a bed that she wasn’t already in ever again.

She had gone back to making herself scarce except for meal times. She also somehow managed to slink in and out of the hall so quickly that by the time Sandor got up and reached the door, she vanished. 

Sandor’s thoughts were interrupted when the wolf-bitch’s older brother sauntered to the bench he was sitting on overlooking the carnage that was once Kings Landing.

“Mind if I sit?” Jon asked.

“Why don’t you ask your Queen that question?” Sandor asked sarcastically. “She seems to tell you where you can and can’t piss let alone sit,” he said in a snarky tone.

Jon sighed but sat down quietly beside him.

Sandor took another swig from the flagon he had in his hand and watched as a pigeon flew over an ash-covered wall.

“I wanted to thank you,” Jon said. “For staying with Arya throughout your travels.”

“She joined me, I didn’t do anything,” he mumbled.

“You took down Gregor, she wouldn’t have been able to do that without you,” he challenged.

“I was on my way to kill him anyway. She wanted the Queen’s head,” Sandor said before taking a long pull from his wine. “She would’ve found a way to sneak in there and kill her, with or without me.”

Jon nodded and looked to the ruined city, “All the same you have our thanks. Anything you want you can have if I can give it.”

Sandor’s mind went directly to the face of the bastard’s sister. He remembered what it looked like when she was crying out his name in ecstasy with her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands clawing down his back.

“You can’t give me what I want,” he muttered. “Besides, wont you have to go through that wench that has you by the balls?” he asked, laughing at the pathetic man before him. How the bastard was related to such a cold, hard killer was beyond him.

Jon sighed heavily through his nose and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“Not for long,” he murmured quietly.

Sandor cast his eyes down at him.

“The fuck you want, Snow?” Sandor asked finally. “Why you here?”

Jon’s head fell forward before he answered in such a quiet tone Sandor actually had to lean in to hear him.

“I’m going to kill the Queen tonight,” he said. “I assumed Arya told you she wanted her gone?”

“She doesn’t tell me anything but I assumed as much,” Sandor said taking another long pull from his wine. No, she didn’t say anything at all to him anymore.

Jon raised himself back up so he was sitting upright. He looked at Sandor in a strange way, like he wanted to ask him something but thought better of it. Sandor was about to ask but Jon interrupted him when he did.

“Who will you bend the knee for?” Jon asked.

Sandor thought about it and all he could come up with was Arya. Seven Hells, he’d cut down one hundred men at the knee if she demanded it at this point.

“Starks I suppose,” Sandor said finally. “Anyone really, besides that crazy bitch of yours or Cersei.”

Jon stood to a full height and looked down at Sandor.

“Then I need you to make sure that when I do it, you protect my sister,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what will happen, but I do know she will be in danger. I know you… care about her and I want to make sure my family remains unharmed.”

Sandor just looked up at him for a few moments before looking away and nodding once in acceptance. Stupid shit should know that he would protect her no matter what.

He already entertained the thought of offering his services to the King and becoming the shield to Arya Stark. The very thought of it was laughable as she could bloody well protect herself with no trouble. Wasn’t like she needed his drunken arse outside her door at night when she kept a blade under her pillow anyways. He just didn’t want her to leave him. So even if it meant standing outside the door while she and her new husband consummated their marriage, he would do it. Even though the very thought of such a horrid situation made his blood boil with a rage he couldn’t comprehend, he would do it, like a good dog.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two right now,” Jon said carefully. “But whatever fight you are having just know that I can see she cares for you too.”

Without another word Jon turned and walked away from Sandor leaving him alone to his thoughts.

He sat there for another hour and finished the last of his wine. When he drank the last of it he tossed the flagon off to the side and hear it clank on the stone and rubble.

When he got up he realized he was drunk enough now that he didn’t care he made a fool of himself. He just needed to find her and speak with her.


	22. Arya

Arya was sitting amongst the destroyed buildings and rotting corpses eating her dinner. They seemed to be the only people she got along with for the past few weeks. She didn’t want to see anyone or do anything, she felt as though her life had been ripped from her with nothing she could do about it.

The Dragon Queen had turned her life upside down when she threatened Arya with marriage. Even Sansa wouldn’t do that, and Sansa had the most traditional beliefs than anyone in her family.

One of the hardest parts of all this was that Sandor was no longer going to be in her life. She wanted him to be, but he was a true warrior. He belonged in some kind of battle or another. He wouldn’t suit well with her family and forced to the lifestyle associated with it.

Moreover, he didn’t want her. That much was clear after he deserted her for days after the Queen threatened her with marriage. She felt stupid and childish to think he wanted her truly like Gendry did. He just wanted her to make him smile and warm his bed for the time they were traveling together. He never truly wanted her. He just wanted a place to warm his cock.

Arya screamed in anguish and threw her plate of food at the wall in front of her. It bounced off the stone and onto the floor. Rolling until it fell over entirely. The sounds echoed so she could still hear her scream of anger.

 _How could you be so stupid?_ She scolded herself. _You let a man get into your head. Stupid, stupid, little girl. Acting like a pathetic woman. What? Did you think you were going to be a happy little family? You didn’t honestly think he loved you did you? He was using you for a quick fuck every now and then. He only wanted you so he could fuck something close to Sansa. He wants her, not you. You are the boy-like Arya with a horse-face. You disgust him now that he can gaze upon his ‘little bird.’_

Arya slapped herself across the face in a rage at her foolishness. She screamed in anger again and threw a rock at the wall. She slammed her foot down on the rocks where she was sitting. She wanted to break the rock beneath her feet. She wanted to break everything in her sight.

_You should be ashamed of yourself. Being taken down by something as idiotic as what you thought was love. He doesn’t love you. If he did, he would’ve come and tried to find you after you were promised off to a future lord. This is a Gods send for him. Now he doesn’t have to pretend to like you anymore, you are to be promised to someone else. He thinks you are nothing. He hates you._

Arya decided that she would become a runaway. She had no other choice. She would leave Kings Landing in a week’s time and head for anywhere but here. She would fight as a sell-sword perhaps. Or maybe enlist in an army somewhere far away where no one knew her name or of the Seven Kingdoms. Why shouldn’t she? She had nothing keeping her here except her brother who couldn’t think on his own and her sister that she knew would bow to the queen if threatened enough. She was tired of schemes and tricks. Death was simple; there was no tricking death.

A few hours later she began her walk back to camp in the setting sun. She was tired and just wanted bed. She moved in the shadows, careful not to be spotted by anyone that knew her. She just wanted to be left completely alone in darkness and let it be at that.

That’s when she heard a Dothraki yelling at the top of his lungs in their foreign language. Arya’s head whipped around trying to listen if someone spoke English.

She heard Sandor coming up behind her from a mile away.

 _For fuck sakes was he ever loud_.

She turned around just as he came to a full stop before her.

“Your brother has just killed the Queen,” Sandor said flatly.

Arya looked at him for a moment. He looked like shit. His hair was a mess and he had bigger bags than usual under his eyes. He shouldn’t look this way. They were finally given beds and full meals, he should look much better than this.

She quickly turned away and began walking towards the royal chambers.

“He asked me to protect you when he killed her,” Sandor said catching up to her.

“Then he’s just as stupid as I thought he was,” Arya said coldly without looking at him. “When did he tell you he was doing this?” she asked.

“This afternoon. I tried looking for you to warn you but I couldn’t find you,” he said.

Arya stopped in mid stride and scowled at him, “Thank you for your service, _Ser_ _Clegane_ but I can assure you, you are no longer _needed_ nor _wanted_.” She tried to make her voice sound as cold and unforgiving as she possibly could.

She turned her back to him and started walking again when she felt his hand on her upper arm to yank her backwards to face him.

“Listen here you stubborn bitch, you may not want me in your bed anymore and that’s fine. But I told your brother I would make sure they didn’t gut you in retaliation and I intend on keeping that promise,” he said.

Arya tried to pull her arm from his grasp but his large fingers were laced over her arm like a vice. He pulled her even closer so she was flush against his body.

“And as to what you said to me earlier,” he pulled her closer so his lips were at her ear. “I don’t think you are a whore, never have. I was serious when I told you that if you’ll have me I wouldn’t let you go. I don’t want anyone else by my side. There’s only one bitch I want to mount.”

He had that tone she recognized when she was caught with the green boy from the stables or when she was flirting with the old man to get food. It was possessive and animalistic. It was the tone that made her heart race and her breath catch in her throat.

He pulled her away from him and looked at her dead in the eye. He was looking at her with his big brown eyes raking over her body. She needed to get away from him to think.

“I need to find my brother,” she said quietly, unable to meet his gaze.

“Fine,” he barked. “But we’re not done here, girl. Not by a long shot.”

“Fine,” she said.

“Fine,” he grumbled letting go of her arm.

 

________________

 

Over the next few days Arya went through a series of harsh emotions but never let it show on her face. She learned that her brother was to be exiled to the North, Bran was the new King of the now 6 Kingdoms and her sister was to become the Queen of Winterfell. And although she was relieved that Bran would never make her marry someone, she also didn’t want any type of royalty. Not a hair of it. She was never a lady and never cared about any of the politics that came with running or be party of running a Kingdom.

Arya could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she walked through the camp that evening it was decided where the Stark children were to be situated. She knew it was because they were waiting to see what Arya was going to do, as it wasn’t yet discussed. Arya herself wasn’t sure so she was given and day to decide where she best fit.

Sansa suggested her being a shield to her so they could be together in Winterfell. But Arya knew instantly that being around more royalty and their petty issues did not interest her in the slightest. She didn’t want all that betrayal and lying shit that came with the game of thrones.

She knew almost instantaneously when they asked what she wanted to do next, but didn’t tell them yet. She wanted more adventure and more discoveries. She wanted to set sail west of Westeross, the unheard of lands. She wanted a life of new beginnings and not have to constantly worry about someone trying to put a knife in her back. She knew the loyalty of ships and its crews, how they would lay over fire for their captain, she wanted that. But there was only one thing that was tethering her to Kings Landing.

 _Sandor_.

It took her by complete and total surprise when he said he wanted her. She thought he was only looking for a traveling fuck partner. She thought he thought she was just another warm mouth to him, that he never needed anyone let alone a horse-faced little girl like Arya. So when told her otherwise she was still in a state of shock.

He had made himself scarce over the past few days. She imagined it was because he thought she needed space when he heard that her brother was leaving her next week.  He wasn’t completely invisible that was for certain. He was always lurking in the background of her peripherals. His eyes were always on her, watching, maybe even waiting for her to make the first move. It warmed her soul that he was being so patient with her.

Since the day he told her she was the only one he wanted it changed her to her core. She always thought being alone was her strength. She never needed anyone else, not even her family. She killed the queen and the Frey’s on her own, walked through the Seven Kingdoms on her own, everything was always by herself and she never needed anything else.

But ever since she left Winterfell to kill Cersei her entire outlook had changed.

She wanted Sandor around. She liked having him by her side as she fought and loved waking up and going to bed in his arms. He was the only real person that she believed she needed. If he left her, she would turn even more bitter and cold than she already was. She needed him.

Would he want to go west of Westeross? Was it too late for him to be looking for adventure and travel? Would he even care if they found a new civilization?

Arya decided to do what she always did when she needed to focus on choice she needed to make. She grabbed a satchel full of various lengthen daggers and made her way to a more wooded area. She opened the bag and began throwing daggers at several different trees with her eyes closed. When she missed one she swore loudly and called herself a useless girl, just like Jaqen did.

She continued this for a few hours and still hadn’t come up with a solution. She just continued to throw all fifteen knives, walking over and yanking them out of the thick wood, and walking back to the spot she was standing. Her solution finally came to her when she heard a crack from behind her and without a second thought threw the knife towards her assailant.

Sandor was standing there with his torso awkwardly leaning far to the right with the knife she threw in a tree to his left, having just dodged her knife that surely would’ve landed in his chest.

She forgot that despite his giant size and age, his reflexes were still quite quick.

He looked between the knife and her for a moment before wrapping his fingers around the hilt and pulling it out of the tree with a little effort.

“You know this shite is useless when men are wearing armor,” he chided while walking over to her to hand her back her knife.

“Not if you hit them in the face,” she said taking the knife from his outstretched palm. His fingers were warm and she missed the feel of them on her neck.

“That’s too small of a target, girl. You can’t hit your target every single time,” he said skeptically. He leaned against the tree to her left and his eyes raked over her body.

Arya quickly turned back to her targets and began throwing.

“Says you,” she said, closing her eyes throwing a knife directly into a tree in the darkness.

She felt him watching her incessantly without pause and she continued to throw three more knives before she turned back to him in a huff.

“What?” she barked.

He looked at her hard for a few moments before he jerked his chin up at her.

“You wanna have that talk now, girl?” he asked gruffly.

Arya turned back to the trees and started throwing again.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

They both stood there awkwardly, the only sounds were the thuds of the steel hitting the wood.

When she finally spoke it was barely a mumble. “I don’t want to stay here or Winterfell or go near that bloody wall.”

Sandor snorted, “Why would you? Everyone in those blasted places either gets murdered or betrayed.” He folded his arms over his chest obviously regarding her with caution.

Arya threw another knife a little harder than the others.

“I was thinking of sailing west,” she said quietly. She stopped chucking her daggers and looked up at him.

“We are west,” he said confused.

“West of here,” she said looking down at her muddy boots. “I was thinking of going on a voyage to find new lands.”

She could sense him looking down at her, drilling holes into the top of her head. She couldn’t stomach if he made fun of her now. She would run from him if he called her a stupid girl with dreams of discovery because that meant he didn’t want to go with her.

“You’d be First Captain then?” He asked.

Arya shrugged and dared a brief glance and him before she quickly turned and threw another knife. She still couldn’t look at him. She scolded herself for being embarrassed and shy about telling him her dream she had since she was a child.

“Aye, they’d make a highborn First Captain before any other man. Even if she is a woman,” he said.

Arya shot him a filthy look before snatching another knife on the ground. She cursed the Gods for not providing her with more knives. She only had three left, which meant she had to face him again.

“You’d need a Second in Command then if memory serves,” he grumbled.

It was Arya’s turn to look at him while he stared at the ground, he was obviously avoiding her eyes and looking anywhere but her face.

“Did you want to be my Second in Command?” she asked point blank.

Sandor shrugged and seemed to be intently focused on kicking a stick on the ground with his foot.

“Never done it on a ship before. Might be shit at it,” he said.

Arya turned her entire body towards him with exasperation. She was tired of this shit. She was tired of playing guessing games with him. First she thought they were using each other, then she thought they were a couple, then she thought he was using her, now she was just confused at what he wanted.

“What do you want from me, Sandor?” she snapped.

Sandor’s eyes snapped up at her. His gazed burned things in her in a way she couldn’t describe.

“You know what I want,” he said between clenched teeth.

Arya threw the knife she had in her hand to the ground violently.

“Actually I don’t!” she exclaimed and threw her hands up in the air. “What the fuck do you want from me? When we got back here you treat me like a pariah and then you say you want me again?”

Sandor actually jumped back from her outburst, if it were any other time than this she would’ve smiled at the fact she could scare such a big man.

“I left you alone because I thought you didn’t want me,” his voice as hard as steel. “I thought you believed we were only fucking while we traveled together, and when we came back we were to go back to our roles as rabid dog and savage highborn.”

Arya stared at him wide-eyed, unable to think.

He looked at her clearly waiting for her to say something and when she didn’t he shoved himself off the tree with an irritated scowl.

“Fuck sakes, girl!” he bellowed. “Do you want to be my woman or not?”

Arya let out a long breath of air she didn’t know she was holding.

She quickly folded her arms across her chest and looked at her the ground, watching one of her feet toeing the ground.

“Yes,” she said bashfully. “I’ll… do that.” She quickly looked back up at him and held out a finger.

“But on one condition,” she said vigilantly. “If you ever don’t want me anymore or want to leave me, you have to tell me and never come back.”

She refused to be left in the dark about how he felt again. She also refused to have her heart ripped out of her chest and to have him linger around her, reminding her of it everyday.

Sandor nodded seriously. It was clear he understood her meaning.

“I also have a few conditions, girl.”

“ _You_ asked _me_ to be your woman. Not the other way around, you miserable shit,” she scoffed.

Sandor chuckled and took a predatory step towards her. When she didn’t move he took another until she had to crane her neck to look up at him. He put his hands warily on her hips. He waited for her to uncross her arms and lay them gently on his chest.

“My first condition is that we tell your family,” he said gravely.

“Why in Seven Hells would we do that?” Arya jeered.

He squeezed her hips possessively before he answered.

“Because I would rather they know than trying to cut off my balls for finding me in their sister’s bed.”

“We can sneak—”

“—I’m sure as shit not a child, girl,” he interrupted. “If I want to bed you, I’m not going to sneak around a castle or boat to do so.” He lifted his hand and ran his fingers through her hair before placing his palm on her cheek tenderly. “Besides, I want every man in every fucking kingdom to know that you belong to me. And if they try to take what’s mine I will strangle them with their own guts.”

Arya felt her body warm with the feel of his palm against her skin. She placed her hand overtop of his and closed her eyes and leaned into his hand.

“Which leads me to my second condition,” he said.

“Fuck sake, you could swear that it was me that asked you with all these rules,” she snapped.

Sandor grinned and then looked at her seriously, taking her by the shoulders and holding her at an arms length away.

“Second condition is this: while you and I are together, if you let another man touch you I will kill him, and then you,” he said threateningly. “I wont let you have my heart only to feast on it later,” he said. And then, more quietly, he choked out: “that would kill me for certain.”

Arya looked up at him fiercely for three heartbeats before she answered.

“You can add that to my rules too,” she said between her teeth.

Arya felt him grip her hips tighter yanked her closer while simultaneously bending down so their lips could crash into each other.

Arya’s arms flew up to wrap around his neck tightly as his hands moved directly to wind around her waist. He lifted her off the ground so her feet were dangling around his knees. She heard herself moan into his mouth at the same time he grunted.

She rammed her tongue against his and they danced together for a moment before she let him dominate the kiss.

She wrapped her legs around his waist so she could climb up his body a little so he wouldn’t have to bend his neck at an uncomfortable angle. When he understood what she was doing his hands went to the backs of her thighs and hoisted her up like she weighed nothing. Once she was secure he let one hand slide up to her arse and the other went behind her head. Arya moaned again when she felt his warm hand squeezing her buttocks. She missed that. She also missed how he would always rip out her topknot and run his fingers through her hair like he was doing now.

She broke away from the kiss so she could breath and Sandor took the advantage to attack her neck with gentle nips along her jaw.

Arya felt her eyes roll into the back of her head and craned her neck, urging him to continue to bite her neck.

When she felt his teeth sink in roughly she let out a loud moan and ground her hips into his body.

“Fuck, Sandor,” she breathed as she continued to grind herself against him.

“Seven Hells, girl. You really are going to be the death of me,” he said while panting.

Arya couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face when she looked at him. His eyes were bright and for once she saw him give her a full handsome smile back at her. She pressed her forehead against his and hummed admiringly.

After only a few short moments he let his hands go to her hips and let her slide down his body onto her feet.

“Come on then, girl,” he said wrapping an arm around her waist and ushering her to an opening in the forest. “Let’s go tell your brother.”

Arya looked up at him wide-eyed.

“You can’t be serious?” Arya exclaimed. “Right this _second_? They’re probably in the middle of dinner!” Arya grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Why not tomorrow? When everyone is good and rested?”

Sandor chuckled and lifted the arm that was wound around her waist to sling around her shoulders and tuck her tightly into his side.

“I wanna fuck you tonight, girl. And I can’t bloody well make you scream without someone finding out it’s you in my bed,” he said.

Arya sighed as they made their way to Jon’s tent.

This was going to be painful.


	23. Sandor

Sandor sighed wearily as he waited for the Stark children to enter the keep.

He and Arya were standing before a long judiciary table that was usually used for trials for criminals, like Littlefinger.

 _How fitting_ , Sandor thought.

When they reached Jon’s chambers Arya said she needed to call a meeting of her siblings. When he asked what was wrong she said she would discuss it when all the children were together. Sandor watched curiously as Jon’s eyes darted between Arya and himself with a slight smile on his face.

The only light in the room was coming from the torches hung on the wall. The air was thick and musty, but not uncomfortable. It still smelled of burnt flesh and smoke that made Sandor shudder at the memory of his brother.

He glanced to his left and saw Arya looking as stone-faced as she normally did when they weren’t alone in bed. She was like him. Never letting her guard down, except with him of course.

He thought back to their conversation in the woods. He was impressed with the accuracy of her knife throwing and was even more impressed that she had her eyes closed. He hated that fucker with the odd name who beat her senseless in the House of Black and White, but he begrudgingly admitted that he taught her well. She was a more skilled fight than most of the men he knew.

Arya folded her arms across her chest when she saw her stoic sister enter wheeling her cripple brother into the hall. Jon Snow followed as well as the imp. Why that little fucker was here was beyond him. It was just like the dwarf to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. Sandor also groaned when he saw Brieanne of fucking Tarth walk in as well. She stood next to the crippled with her hands behind her back.

“The fuck she’s doing here?” Sandor growled at Arya.

Arya looked up at him and lightly shrugged. It was clear she didn’t like it more than he did. She was just as private as he was, if not more.

“You’ve called this meeting today,” Sansa said. “Have you decided where you will go and what you will do?”

Arya looked at her siblings seriously before speaking.

“I’ve decided to lead a team and sail west of here,” Arya said.

Sansa looked at her with that same bloody condescending smile as she always did. The older Stark child thought she was better than his wolf-bitch and it infuriated him. She always held that attitude towards Arya, even when they were children.

“West of here?” Sansa said in mild amusement. “We have been here for hundreds of years. If there was anything west of Westeross we would have found it by now.” She folded her perfectly clean hands and rest them on the table in front of her.

“Besides, it is not a place for a Lady to Captain some ship with a bunch of dirty men.” Sansa stopped and pointed her finger at Arya like a mother scolding a child. “They wont respect you. They wont take orders from you and you know it.”

Sandor had already had enough of this. He didn’t like the Little Bird when she was pretending she was a Queen. Yes, she was a great beauty, and at one point he fantasized about fucking her, but she was being a right cunt at the moment and he could tell Arya was fuming.

“They’ll respect _fighters_ , milady,” he said. “Not a little lady who sits in a fucking castle to work on her needlepoint. _Fighters_ , a real killer, like your sister.”

The Little Bird’s eyes snapped up to him. “Don’t you think for one second that we all haven’t fought to get here,” she said evenly.

“Oh aye, and what have you done to earn their respect?” Sandor countered. “Arya was down in the mud and shit like the rest of us fighting off the dead. And where were you?”

Sansa’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. But Sandor didn’t care. He wanted to make her feel just as small as she tried to make Arya feel.

“Hiding,” he continued. “In the crypt. Just like a frightened bird. They will respect her. They will respect her for beheading the Queen who tortured their families. And if all else they will respect her because she is in the pits everyday training with these ‘dirty men’ as you say, who are doing so to sacrifice their lives for your little schemes,” Sandor growled. “So don’t you point your dainty fucking finger at me and tell me otherwise.”

The imp cleared his throat loudly. “I think we all can agree we have made sacrifices to be here,” he said carefully. “May I ask, why is it that you want to do this, Arya?” He asked.

Arya inclined her head towards the tiny man. “I am not a Lady. I never have been. So there is no point in me doing the duties of a Lady,” Arya said. She turned her head towards the Little Bird and addressed her directly. “If you try and marry me off to some Lord I will slit his throat in his sleep-“ 

“-you know I would never do that, Arya,” Sansa interrupted.

“I don’t want to be your bloody shield either. I am tired of the games,” Arya said.

 To Sandor’s shock it was the cripple who spoke up.

 “You will find great happiness in finding a purpose that doesn’t revolve around death and vengeance,” Bran said in the same monotone voice he always did. 

Sansa turned and looked at her younger brother sharply. “You can’t be serious Bran! Wasting an entire fleet of men and ships on some dream that something might be out there is ridiculous.”

Bran ignored her and stared at Arya intently when he asked, “How many do you need?”

Sandor looked down at Arya and was pleased to see her grinning at her brother. He decided right then and there that he liked the boy, even if he was a cripple.

Sandor looked over to Jon and saw him smiling as well. He simply sat back in his chair and nodded in approval at his young sister. His smile said he was proud of her.

“And what is _he_ even doing here?” Sansa asked gesturing to Sandor.

“He is to be my Second in Command,” Arya said. “He has every right to be here.”

Sandor could tell from miles away that the little wolf was stalling. He knew it was going to be uncomfortable to talk about, but the thought of dancing around a topic because he was nervous made him annoyed. He was used to facing things head on and he would treat this no differently.

“I am here because she is my woman,” he said gruffly. “I go where she goes.”

The room was so quiet you could here a pin drop.

Sandor could feel Arya shift awkwardly from her left foot to her right. She was also fidgeting with the hilt of her needle. He had to bite back a laugh at seeing his lover in such a state. She was not easily unnerved and he was scratching it into his memory, as he doubted he could make her so uncomfortable again.

“What did you just say?” Sansa gawked.

“We’re together, alright?” Arya said in an aggravated huff.

“It most certainly _is not_ alright!” Sansa sputtered. She looked over to her older brother and slammed her hands on the table. “Jon! Did you know about this?” Sansa shrieked.

Jon had his chin resting in his hand with his elbow propped on the chair’s armrest. He was looking between Arya and Sandor, evaluating them carefully.

“I had my suspensions,” he said finally. “I just never thought you would actually tell us,” he said looking directly at Arya.

Arya glared up at Sandor, “It wasn’t my decision,” she said still scowling at Sandor. 

Bran had a knowing smirk across his lips when he spoke next. “I told you, you will find great happiness in finding a purpose that doesn’t revolve around death and vengeance,” he said. “He will make you happy by your side,” he said.

This time Sandor felt the tips of his ears turn red along with Arya.

Sansa stood up slowly and braced her hands on the table in front of her as she leaned forward. “I will not have my sister give her maidenhood to some… _Lannister dog_ ,” she growled. “Not to mention he’s twice your age! He is a deformed monster who should be hanged by his neck until dead. He’s using you to get a affluent highborn,” she said jabbing a finger at Sandor.

“You watch your fucking mouth,” Arya said with her hand reaching for her needle.

Sandor put an arm around her midsection and shoved her behind him. He didn’t need her hurting her family only to regret it later on.

“Arya is not the heir to the Iron Throne. She has no properties,” he said. “If I wanted a highborn I would’ve raped you back when we were in Kings Landing,” he said.

Sansa’s eyes narrowed on his left arm that was wrapped around Arya. Sandor suddenly realized that his hand was resting low enough on her hip that his fingers were grazing just the top of her arse. Arya’s hand was wrapped around his forearm with her other hand on his hip as well. He knew this was a very unsuitable way a man should be holding a woman that he hasn’t already bedded.

“ _Arya_ ,” Sansa said with malice in her tone. “You _are_ still a maiden, aren’t you?”

When Sandor glanced to his left he saw that Arya’s face went bright red as she squirmed under Sandor’s arm.

Sansa took her silence as an answer and fell back into her chair with a gasp. Breanne looked as though she wished she could be anywhere but this room, the imp squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation, and Jon was equally as red as Arya. Bran, however, continuously sat there looking at them both with mild curiosity.

“You are as stupid as I was when I was your age,” Sansa spat. “Maybe more so. You let yourself be used by a man. Not even a man, but a _dog_.”

He could feel Arya tense against his arm and was ready to restrain her when Jon finally spoke.

“I all of all people know that you can’t help who you love,” Jon bellowed looking directly at Sansa. “Do you judge me as harshly as Arya for loving Deny?” he asked.

Sansa scoffed, “Of course not, but she’s a lady-“

“-She’s already told you more than once she’s no lady.” Jon said, standing up. “So by your standards a lady can risk her life by shielding you, but she can’t Captain a ship on a mission where there will be minimal battles?” He said looking directly at his red headed sister.

Sansa huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “He is a dog who took a young vulnerable girl in the night. He knew what he was doing,” Sansa hissed.

Sandor watched as Arya rolled her eyes. “It was a mutual agreement for both of us, Sansa,” she said. “Do you honestly think a drunk shit like him could have stolen me in the night?” Sandor barked out a laugh at her description of him. But she continued.

“I’ve taken on hundreds of weights on my own. You honestly think I couldn’t have stopped him if I wanted?” Arya asked.

Sansa seemed to be at a loss for words at the moment and Jon took the opportunity to speak.

“You say you don’t judge me for loving a woman who killed thousands of innocent people,” he said. “Don’t judge Arya because she loves a man who traveled thousands of miles and even died to protect her,” he said.

Sandor shifted uncomfortably, he didn’t like all this mushy soft shit and he anticipated that was going to happen next.

“Sandor,” said Jon. “Do you love my sister?”

Sandor was immensely uneasy. He looked anywhere but the four faces in front of him. It was quiet for a few moments before he grounded out the courage to mumble, “Aye.”

Jon and Sandor looked at Arya, who was still red faced and looking at the ground.

“Arya?” Jon asked.

Arya cleared her throat carefully before she answered.

“Yes,” she mumbled. “I love him.”

 Sandor squeezed his hand on her hip apologetically. He knew telling her siblings would be rough but he honestly didn’t think she would be subject to such an inquisition. He was also pleased to hear her say it out loud. It warmed his soul that he finally found someone that would care for him when no one else ever had.

“This is preposterous,” Sansa said. “So, what? You are to be the wife of the Hound?” she asked, making it sound like it was a ridiculous notion.

 _Because it is_ , thought Sandor.

He knew Arya was not keen on the idea of marriage. She had been told her entire life that was what she was born for, to get married and produce more babes. He didn’t care one way or another quiet frankly. As long she was with him and only him he was content.

“We are not getting married,” Arya said. “We are together and that is it.” Sandor felt her tiny hand clench his forearm tighter. He decided that it was no longer necessary to hold her back from clawing her sister’s eyes out, so he maneuvered his arm around her back and pulled her back close to his side.

“Wonderful,” Sansa said sarcastically throwing her hands up in the area. “Out sister is living out of wedlock for every Kingdom to judge us further.”

“I could give two shits about what people think of me,” Arya snapped.

“Enough!” Jon said. “Our sister is one of the most skilled fighters I have seen. She is now with a man who has years of experience and will die for her if need be.” He looked over to Sansa directly. “It is not your life to live. You will make peace with this, Sansa.”

“Are we done here then?” Sandor growled. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He should’ve listened to his woman and left it alone.

“Yes,” said Bran. “Please inform me of your departure date and I will ready you as many ships and men that you want.”

Sandor grabbed Arya’s hand and marched out the door.

After the awkward meeting Sandor needed food and wine. A lot of wine.

They made their way into the food hall and got into line to be served. It was late enough in the night that there was not a lot of soldiers left to be served. He grabbed two plates and handed one to Arya and began shoveling his plate full of whatever was leftover. He snagged a flagon of wine and handed it to Arya as well as grabbing another for himself. 

“You really are a drunken shit, you know that?” she said, amused.

Sandor began walking to the corner table that sat overlooking the entire hall with Arya following behind him.

“Aye, well I had to endure that shite with your bitch of a sister,” he said as he sat down with his back to the wall.

“She means well,” Arya said moving to sit beside him.

He smiled at the fact she was sitting next to him out of habit to assess any dangers that came into her sight. Just like he taught her. Just like him.

She must’ve sensed him grinning down at her like an idiot because she looked up at him clearly confused.

“What?” she asked.

Sandor just shook his head and began eating. They ate in the same comfortable silence they always did. When Sandor finished he sat back and downed his second cup of wine only to refill it right after. He filled Arya’s cup as well while she mopped up the last of her stew with her bread.

He watched as she brought the cup to her lips and took three long pulls before placing it back down on the table. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and continued to finish her bread.

Seven Hells, she even ate like he did. Like they weren’t going to get another meal in a long time.

Sandor’s attention was shifted when he saw the Little Bird and Jon Snow walk into the hall and sit at the high table while servants rushed to attend to them.

He never saw Arya sit up there. He doubted she ever would. He was learning more and more about her and one of those things was that she didn’t like all formalities that came along with royalty. All the curtsying and bow nonsense, he had to agree, it got tiresome.

His mind wandered to moments ago when they both admitted that they loved each other to her family. He couldn’t remember if he ever loved anything before besides his horse. He wasn’t even sure if he was ever loved before.

He had to be careful with her. He didn’t want to fuck this up in any way. He begrudgingly admitted that he was a bit scared she would leave him. He didn’t know how to love someone. He didn’t ever give her pretty songs or words. But he could offer her protection and his sword by her side and that seemed to be enough for her.

Now that it was confirmed that she belonged to him, the thought of someone trying to hurt her made him blindingly furious. He swore to himself that if anyone ever tried to touch her he would slit their throat after he fucked them with his sword.

Sandor only wanted her to be happy, and if sailing west into the unknown was what did it, then he was happy. He actually was quite intrigued at what they would find, maybe nothing, or maybe another Seven Kingdoms. He had no idea, but was happy to do it with her.

Sandor surveyed the men around him. He was glad there was no one sitting at their table, but he did see a few groups of men dotted around the hall. Most were heavy in the wine and a few were still eating. He noticed a group of Northerners were looking in his direction, and they weren’t looking at him.

Sandor gripped the edge of the table angrily. He saw one of them boldly point at Arya and then clapped his friend on the shoulder as they laughed. He knew that sneer anywhere; it was the look of a man who hadn’t had the accompaniment of a willing woman in months.

He looked down at Arya who was drinking her glass of wine remaining blissfully ignorant as ever. He sighed, _this is going to be a problem_.

If the thought of someone hurting her angered him, the thought of someone touching her without her consent, or at all really, made him infuriated.

Arya looked up at him, clearly aware of his presence going from happy to angry in a matter of seconds. She raised a questioning brow at him and he raised his glass to hip lips and tilted his head back, emptying the last of the wine into his belly.

“I have another condition, girl,” he said finally.

Arya groaned, “I am not going to fucking beg for you, dog. You wanted me and I agreed. I don’t like all these rules you’re giving me,” she snapped.

Sandor leaned so his lips were at her ears, “How about a request then?”

Arya placed her elbow on the table and put her cheek in her hand, she looked completely uninterested and annoyed at him. “Fine, get on with it.”

He put his hand on her leg under the table. “I know you are like me and don’t like showing yourself as soft in front of the other men,” he started.

Arya glared up at him and clearly looked like she didn’t like what he was going to ask.

“But I want these men to know that they will have to deal with me if they touch you,” he said.

Arya just stared at him confused.

He sighed. “I want you to make it obvious to the men that you belong to me,” he said finally.

Arya laughed once and looked out to the sea of potential danger anyone of these men could inflict.

“What? You want me to fuck you on this table in front of everyone to see?” She asked taking another sip of her wine and laughing.

Sandor laughed with her, and it felt like he fit here, with her, perfectly.

“As appealing as that sounds, I don’t want anyone else’s eyes to see what I get to see every night,” he purred in her ear.

“So, what then?” She asked turning her head so her face was inches from his.

Sandor’s cup clanked as he set it down lifted her light body up from under her arms so she was sitting on his lap with her feet dangling off his right thigh.

Arya rolled her eyes but otherwise didn’t move, not even when he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her.

“This is childish,” she muttered. “I am a woman grown and a trained killer. I don’t need you show me off like some shiny piece of silver. If the men try and attack me I will kill them myself. It’s worked well so far for the past several years.”

Sandor let one of his hands rest on her thigh and rubbed it up and down slowly.

“I know you are a woman grown,” he said. “But consider it making the number of attackers minimal. A lot of these men are afraid of me and won’t go near you if they know a rabid dog will attack if they touch his wolf-bitch.”

“Fine, but I’m not making kissy faces at you,” she said.

Sandor chuckled, “Just when we’re alone then?” he teased. And she slapped him on the shoulder.

“Plus, it will drive your sister mad,” he murmured in her ear.

Arya looked over at the high table and back at him and grinned. Sandor also turned and saw the Little Bird fuming at watching them cuddle on the bench. But before she could answer, the group of Northerners had walked over and sat down across from them.

“So it’s true then?” The one with rotting teeth said. “The little Stark girl is fucking the scum of the Seven Kingdoms,” he said.

Sandor was about to tell him to fuck off but Arya spoke before he had the chance.

“Aye,” she growled. “I am, and if you know what’s good for you, you would take you and your putrefying teeth with you.”

Sandor grinned and squeezed her tighter to his body. He liked it when she barred her teeth and threatened men. He also liked they could finally admit they were together.

The other Northern men started laughing and the man’s expense.

The other one with a big baldhead leaned across the table and sneered at her.

“I bet his cock burned off along with his face,” he said. “Come with me and I’ll give you a good fucking that you won’t forget.”

Sandor snatched the dagger from Arya’s belt and slammed it in between the man’s fingers so it stuck out of the wooden table. The man screamed and withdrew his hand in shock.

Sandor leaned in and barred his teeth at them, “Next time you come near my wolf-bitch, I wont miss,” he hissed. “Now fuck off!” he boomed.

Sandor snorted as the pathetic three men scurried away quickly.

Arya wrapped her arms around his neck and was grinning at him. The way she was looking at him was the same way she was the first time they fucked.

“What?” he asked smiling back at her. She shook her head and pulled him closer so her lips were at his ear.

“I like watching you threaten idiots,” she said with a slight slur to her words. He could smell the wine on her breath. He looked into her flagon and realized she had drunk half of it in short time they were sitting there.

“You’re drunk,” he said, amused.

Arya bit her bottom lip and nodded before she pressed her lips to his for the entire mess hall to see.


	24. Arya

Arya could feel the warmth of the wine take over her as she sat on Sandor’s lap.

When he intimidated those three men it made her heart race with a combination of gratification and arousal. She never needed anyone to defend her, but it felt nice to sit back and let him do the dirty work. This of course was not going to become a habit, but it was nice all the same. It probably didn’t help that she wouldn’t be able to fight them off as effectively as she normally could because drank too much too quickly and the room was starting to spin.

When she pulled back from their kiss she felt him bump his forehead against hers gently before opening her eyes. His brown eyes were hooded with arousal and a slight smirk on his lips. She gave him another quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, his beard scratching her cheeks.

Arya took a peak around his head to look at her family sitting at the high table.

Sansa’s eyes were like burning hot coals, glaring Sandor with pure hatred. Jon was smirking into his wine glass, clearly having seen the display of affection but not wanting to embarrass her. She saw Breanne sitting next to him looking at Sansa with concern.

“For fuck sake, what do _you_ want?” Sandor growled.

Arya turned her head and saw the Tyrion Lanniser standing at the opposite side of the table with, as always, a wineglass glued to his hand.

“May I join you, my Lady?” he asked ignoring Sandor completely.

“No,” Sandor said.

Tyrion ignored him and climbed up on the bench anyways. Arya removed her arm from around Sandor’s neck and wrapped it under his arm and around his shoulder, ready to restrain him from attacking the little lord if need be. The last thing they needed was Sandor to be on trial for murdering the hand of the King. That would just make Sansa’s day.

Tyrion regarded them with amused eyes and took a long drink of his wine and smiled at them.

“So, the new happy couple,” he said. “A dog and a wolf, who would’ve thought it possible!”

Sandor snorted and took a sip of his wine before answering. “Better than a brother and sister,” he muttered into his cup. He leaned towards the Imp and Arya squeezed his shoulder in warning.

“The fuck you want, Dwarf?” he asked.

“I have been asked by the new Queen of Winterfell to make you reconsider your departure, my Lady,” Tyrion said looking directly at Arya.

“Bran and I have already made the plans. Sansa only wants me to stay because she doesn’t want me near Sandor,” Arya said annoyed. She felt Sandor squeeze her ribs and she surreptitiously moved her hand from his shoulder to his back and rubbed it up and down to soothe his irritation.

“Yes, I imagine you are right about that. But none the less she asked me to try and talk you out of it,” He said smiling warmly at her.

Arya raised her brow in confusion as to what his next move was.

When Tyrion simply drank his wine and regarded them with a watchful eye Arya sighed in irritation.

“Well?” she asked. “Don’t you have some grand scheme to uncoil and make me second guess myself?”

The Imp chuckled and shook his head. “Normally you would be right, my Lady. But as I saw the two of you before your siblings and as I see you now, I know there is little the Queen has to be worried about,” he said.

Tyrion stretched his arms and chest like he had just taken a long nap. “I’m not actually going to convince you out of it,” he explained.  I’m just sitting here in your sister’s line of sight to make it look like I am. I’m sitting here to appease the Queen,” he finished.

“And why, exactly, are you not trying to convince me out of it?” Arya asked, utterly puzzled.

Tyrion smirked and looked at Sandor. Arya felt him huff and look away from the Imp. Sandor grabbed his glass of wine and began drinking all of it in one go.

Arya saw Tyrion’s smile widen as he clearly saw the big man’s embarrassment.

“I can see this man will lay over a thousand swords for you, my Lady,” Tyrion said softly. “That level of dedication and love is hard to come by. I suggest you cherish it as it can easily be stolen from you with one mistake,” Tyrion said with his eyes gazing far off in the distance, his mind was clearly somewhere else.

Arya squirmed in Sandor’s lap uncomfortably. She hated that people were commenting on their relationship with such pretty words. These things may warm Sansa’s heart, but Arya was just mortified.

Tyrion quickly shook his head in sadness and left the new couple alone in the corner.

Arya turned to Sandor who was avoiding eye contact and grumbling under his breath. She couldn’t help but grin at his embarrassment and she gave him another kiss on the cheek.

“Take me to bed?” she asked, rescuing him from his chagrin of Tyrion’s words.

Sandor nodded quickly and he patted her thigh and motioned for her to get up.

They both agreed to go to his chambers as her siblings were all situated around hers. She yawned as they made their way slowly to bed. Arya felt one of his big arms snake around her waist and pull her in close so she could lean into his side in her tired state.

The stairs to his room were narrow so they had to walk single file going up them. He pushed her first and they made their way up the stone steps slowly. Arya suddenly let out a squeak and came to a full stop when she felt his hands on the backs of her thighs.

She turned around and saw him several steps below with a devilish smirk on his lips. 

“What are you doing?” she laughed and started up the steps again.

“Been a long time, girl. Weeks since I got to touch you,” he murmured. His hands moved up her thighs as she moved and he gripped her ass almost painfully tight.

“I think I missed this the most,” he growled.

Arya laughed and when she reached the to of the steps his hands went to her hips and turned her towards his room.


	25. Jon

Jon looked across the room at his youngest sister walking across the mess hall with the Hound.

Their height difference was almost comical. Arya’s head barely reached his own shoulders let alone the Hound’s. In fact, almost everything about them was different come to think of it, Jon thought. She was a highborn, he was not, she had grown into a beautiful young woman, he was a mutilated soldier, she was the epitome of calm and deadly whereas he was bad-tempered and quick to snap at the slightest annoyance.

He wasn’t sure when he knew that the Hound was in love with his sister, but he knew he did before they announced it the family an hour ago. It was the way Clegane’s eyes would follow her every move when she was present, or when his head would snap up at the slightest mention of her, or when he heard the way he talked about Arya to Tormund and how she was a, “feral little bitch who is not to be trifled with.”

But it was when they showed up at together with the head of Cersei Lannister where Jon’s assumtions were triple confirmed. When Deny threatened Arya with marriage he saw Sandor’s face contort with a rage and fear that was so pure, there was no way that man could feel anything but love towards his little sister. He recognized love in that man’s eyes. He had it himself at one point before Deny went over the deep end.

It had taken Jon time to accept that it was very plausible that the Hound and his sister were going to end up together. He soon came to understand that this man was fiercely loyal and would protect her at all costs. If his sister was happy and safe with the Hound then he really couldn’t say anything considering his own previous lovers.

When he heard that his sister had disappeared from Winterfell he immediately went looking for the Hound. Firstly, because if she left he could sick him on her like a dog to get her and bring her back, but when he realized he was gone as well he knew they were together. It comforted him that a beast of a man was with her to keep her safe.

Jon knew when he asked the Hound to protect his sister after he killed the Deny that he would without question. He also knew they had some kind of a fight or spat because they were no longer glued to each other’s sides. He knew this because the Hound was in an even fouler mood than usual, constantly shoving people out of his way and barked at anyone who spoke to him.

Arya was no better. He knew his sister better than most and saw that she was upset about something, although she would never admit it. When she was invited to meetings with the family she was quieter than normal. Normally when she ate she would shovel down as much food as she could as if it was her last meal. However, over the last few weeks she moved the food around her plate with a fork, barely touching it. He never said anything, but he saw when she would return from her long walks that her cheeks were stained with tears.

He wanted so badly to hug her and tell her it would be okay but he knew that would just earn him a cold stare. She had grown up harder and colder than he liked, but he supposed that was how she stayed alive and why she and the Hound worked together so well.

He was taken from his thoughts when he heard Sansa snort and look over to him disgusted.

“ _Look_ at them Jon,” she hissed. “They look ridiculous together.”

Jon watch as Clegane leaned in close to Arya’s ear and said something making her laugh and shake her head.

It was good to see her laugh again. He hadn’t seen that often enough.

Just seeing them together made sense to Jon. He watched as Clegane leaned over and filled their cups while Arya shoveled beets from her plate to his.

Jon smiled; he remembered she always hated beets, when she was little she said they tasted like dirt. His smile widened when he realized that she knew what Clegane liked to eat and what he didn’t. Just like any other married couple. He chuckled at the odd domesticity of it all.

“What are you _laughing_ at, Jon?” Sansa whispered. “This isn’t funny.”

“He loves her Sansa,” Jon said, exasperated. “He was loyal to the Lannisters all those years and he’ll be loyal to her. He’ll protect her and make her happy, that’s all we need to concern ourselves with.”

Sansa huffed and leaned in further to Jon’s chair so only he would hear.

“He was loyal to them until he wasn’t, if you don’t recall,” Sansa countered. “And look at the size of him! He could snap her in half like a stick. What if he winds up like his brother? What then? You heard the stories of Gregor’s wives. You know evil runs in that family’s blood,” she said.

Jon looked over to his sister. He loved Sansa but sometimes her thirst for power overshot the love of her siblings. He knew she wasn’t worried about her sister’s safety. Sansa saw Arya kill numerous men and could very well behead Clegane if need be.

“If we are to be judged by our family’s actions than I suppose that means I should be killed before I go mad as well,” Jon quipped.

Sansa was quiet after that, stabbing her food harshly with her fork and eating angrily in silence.

“At least they’ll be gone on their little adventure for no one to see so our name isn’t dragged through the mud,” Sansa muttered.

Jon looked over at Arya and saw her unconsciously lean into Sandor’s side with her forearm resting against his. She was looking up at him with what Jon could only describe as love and admiration. He admitted that it was very, very sweet to see his sister’s softer side.

Jon went back to eating with a relatively relaxed feeling in his gut. Knowing his sister would be happy after he left would make him happy as well. He loved her and wanted to make sure she was cared for when he was gone. He wanted all his siblings to be cared for when he left for the north.

“Oh my good Gods!” Sansa exclaimed.

Jon looked up to see his baby sister sitting on the Hound’s lap with his big arms encircled around her possessively. Jon started chuckling at the boldness of the new couple and quickly averted his gaze.

Sansa waved Tyrion over from a table nearby and told him to speak to her sister. Maybe she thought his slippery way with words would convince Arya out of her plans.

“That is disgusting to see,” Sansa spat. “I can’t believe they’re doing this to us. This is wildly inappropriate.”

Jon sighed and patted her hand. He knew if he just waited it out Sansa would eventually accept their sister’s decision.

Jon looked back over at the new couple and watched as Arya wrapped her arms around Clegane’s neck and kissed him passionately with a slight smile playing around her lips. Clegane’s hands were wrapped around her hips gently with his eyes closed. Had someone told him years ago that he would witness the Hound gently kiss his sister, he would have thought them mad.

He also burst out laughing when he heard Sansa’s shriek.


	26. Sandor

Sandor flexed his hands on his woman’s hips leading her in front of him towards his chamber doors.

He never felt so unstable around a woman before. When he was behind her walking up the stairs he couldn’t keep his hands off her. He couldn’t resist touching her. She was like a fine Dornnish wine to him. He would never have his fill.

Having been robbed of her body for almost three weeks his need was extreme. He hoped she would let him have her more than once tonight. 

When they made it to his chambers he stepped in front of her to unlock the door and he noticed his hands were shaking. He passed the threshold and grabbed her by the wrist to pull her inside roughly. She slammed against his chest as he kicked the door shut to kiss her feverishly.

To his pleasure she responded immediately by wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. He gripped her by her thighs and hauled her off the floor and slammed her into the door. Her legs wrapped around his waist and she let out a delightful moan.

He pressed himself harder against her to be sure she wouldn’t slip to the ground and he reached his hand into her hair and pulled out those blasted ties that held her top knot. When her hair fell down around her shoulders he ran his fingers through the soft locks.

She pulled away from the kiss first panting and looking at him with swollen plump lips and lust-filled eyes. He pressed his forehead against hers for a moment before he began aggressively sucking and biting her neck. She whimpered above him and raked her nails against the back of his scalp.

“Sandor…” she moaned when he sucked on the base of her throat. Sandor grunted in pain as her thighs tightened around his recently healed ribs.

He licked and nipped his way back up her neck and jaw until he reached her mouth again. He felt her small tongue battle against his own for dominance as she usually did.

He gripped her thigh tightly in warning and when she still didn’t back down he ripped his mouth away from hers.

“Enough,” he said gruffly. “You will have your chance, girl. But right now I am in charge.”

“Alright, alright,” she obeyed breathlessly. When she went to kiss him again he pulled back and gave her another warning glance.

“Fuck sakes, Sandor!” She exclaimed, letting her head fall back against the wood of the door with a thump. “I said alright! Just kiss me,” she growled taking his head in her hands and yanking him back to her lips passionately.

Sandor chuckled at her impatience but complied in the kiss.

At the same time he rammed his tongue into her mouth he also thrust his hips against her core thumping her back into the door roughly.

She moaned loudly into his mouth and he felt one of her arms wrap securely around his neck and the other slide to his chest to untie his cloak and let it fall to the ground.

Sandor loosened his grip on her ass and let her slide to the floor. Her hands frantically flew to the laces on his breaches and he did the same for her.

He quickly undid buckles and laces of all her layers, desperately trying to get her naked before him. When he finally lifted her sark over her head and she stepped out of her breeches at her feet he took a step back to admire her naked body.

He noticed a big yellow bruise on her ribs, no doubt where they had broken weeks previous. He saw that knees were still healing from the scrapes and her shins were still littered with bruises. He saw that the stitches were taken out of her leg, but there was still a long star that stretched across her snowy skin. Besides that, she seemed fine. Better than fine. She was eatable.

“So fucking beautiful,” he choked out before his lips crashed into hers and he pushed her back against the door.

He had to almost bend in half for his mouth to reach her tits but he managed with no complaints. She mewled as he gently grazed his teeth over the left one while he kneaded the other with his hand. He continued his ministrations for a few minutes until she was cursing and squirming against him, just for him to move to the other nipple and continue.

“Gods, Sandor…” she sighed loudly.

Sandor grinned against her breast and his mind went to the northerners that tried to bed her earlier. He wanted every single person in this bloody castle to know whom she belonged to. And by the Gods he was going to make her scream tonight if it was the last thing he did.

When he nipped his way back up to her mouth she accepted the kiss greedily.

Arya’s hands slipped under his layers and turned into claws against his belly making his grunt in pain. He braced both his hands on either side of her head and pressed his forehead against hers. He amusedly watched as she impatiently writhed against him trying to get him to move faster.

“Clothes _off_ ,” she demanded. Her eyes were wild and she was tugging at his layers with the need of a crazed animal. She was panting like a bull before it was about to charge. He felt his cock harden even more than it already was.

At this he happily complied and made haste with his layers. Her tiny hands went to his hips and pushed down his breeches and small clothes to his ankles roughly. Her eyes raked over his broad chest and her hands followed. She covered his chest in tiny kisses and nips through the matt of hair that it covered.

He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of her hands all over him. It had been so long since he had the pleasure of her mouth. He braced his hands on either side of her face on the door again to let her have her way with him.

She kept full eye contact when one of her small hands slid down his belly, wrapped around his cock and began mercilessly pumping.

One of Sandor’s hands slapped against the wood door by her head and he swore under his breath. He pressed his forehead against her chest trying to gain some kind of composure.

“Fuck sakes, Arya,” he whispered.

Arya’s hand left his cock and he groaned, already missing it.

He was in total shock when she suddenly dropped to her knees in front of him and looked up with doe-lie eyes. She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and took him into her mouth.

Sandor grunted loudly as she began bobbing her head up and down on his painfully hard erection.

She was only on her knees for a few seconds when Sandor knew he wasn’t going to last long if she kept that up.

He pulled her up roughly and heard the delightfully vulgar sound of her mouth leaving his cock. He then grabbed her by the arse and pulled her up again with her legs wrapped securely around him.

He looked at her deeply with his forehead against hers.

She was panting and looking at him with those same gorgeous fucking grey eyes. He never wanted to see any eyes other than hers.

“I’m not going to last long,” he warned.

Arya squirmed against him, obviously trying to relieve the ache she felt between her legs. He felt the wetness of her core against her belly and growled.

When he didn’t move right away she swooped down and bit him hard on the neck causing him to growl.

“I won’t either,” She whispered. She pulled her face back up from his neck to look at him.“Please Sandor, fuck me like you own me,” she begged while holding his face between her hands.

That did it for him. He couldn’t hold out any longer.

 He shoved his thick shaft inside of her in one go, slamming her against the door again.

Arya threw her head back against the door and cried out his name loud enough that his neighbors were sure to hear. That made Sandor smile.

He stayed still for a while. Allowing her to adjust to his size as he hadn’t been with her for a while he was worried he might injure her.

“You okay?” he asked.

Arya had her lips pressed together in a tight line and wiggled herself into a comfortable angle.

“Just give me a minute,” she panted.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked, horrified.

“No, you’re just so fucking big,” she breathed while squirming her body upwards on his hands until she found an angle she felt comfortable.

“Ok,” she whispered. “Move.”

“You’re sure I’m not hurting you?” He asked not completely reassured.

“Gods, Sandor. Quit trying to be a gentleman and fuck me,” she growled.

And Sandor did.

He drove into her with the force of a man that wasn’t allowed to touch his mate for weeks. God’s he missed this. She was already soaking wet and he had forgot how warm and tight her core was. She was so beautiful with her arms wrapped around him and moaning his name with a string of cusses, louder and louder.

The only sounds were the thuds of her back hitting the door combined with her moans and his grunts and growls.

“I’m… Sandor… I’m so close,” she cried. “Don’t stop… fuck…. _Please don’t ever stop_ ,” she cried.

He slammed into her with three more hard rough strokes with such ferocity he was worried he would hurt her back with how hard she was pounding into the door.

Sandor groaned loudly when he felt her walls flutter around his cock as she came. He followed soon after when she cried out his name in a deafeningly moan.

He collapsed against the door, leaning against her completely. Her cheek rested on his shoulder and her ankles hooked around his waist. Her arms released the strong grip on his neck and held him more loosely.

When he finally got his wits about him he kissed her on the neck sleepily and lifted her off him, pulling out slowly. He then made his way to the bed, kicking off his breeches that he carelessly left around his ankles.

When he reached the bed he held her easily with one arm and drew the covers back and gently lay her down with a gentle kiss to the forehead. He then crawled in next to her and threw the covers over their naked bodies and encircled her in his arms. 


	27. Arya

Arya lay quietly trying to catch her breath. When Sandor climbed into bed with her he pulled her completely on top of him so that their bodies were flush against each other. One of his arms was wound around her waist with a steel-like grasp while his other hand was stroking the back of her head.

“Fucking hells, girl,” Sandor chuckled breathlessly.

Arya nodded in understanding. When she finally caught her breath she looked up at him with her chin on his chest. “That was marvelous,” she said smiling adoringly at him.

Sandor laughed and lifted his hand from her hair and put it behind his head, propping him up to look down at her.

“I think everyone in Kings Landing heard how marvelous you thought that was,” he said arrogantly.

Arya glared at him and then rested her cheek back on his chest.

“I wasn’t that loud,” she muttered.

She felt him kiss her on the top of her head before he spoke again. “You howled louder than those fucking Direwolves you love so dearly,” Sandor said proudly. “If that didn’t let everyone know whom you belong to I don’t know what will,” he said.

Arya rolled her eyes at the unbelievably childishness of a full-grown man.

“Is that the only reason you wanted to fuck me tonight?” she asked looking back up at him. “To show off your new shiny bauble to all the other children?” she said irately.

Arya watched as he moved his hands to her cheeks, cupping them softly.

“I don’t give a shit about what other men think,” he said evenly. “But I will not have them try to paw at you in thinking we are separable.” She felt his thumbs stroke her cheekbones delicately. “I didn’t fuck you because I wanted to show off a trinket. I wanted to fuck you because I haven’t had you in weeks and craved you in my bed again,” he said.

“Technically I wasn’t in your bed, I was against your door,” she quipped making him chuckle.

Arya reached her hand back up to his cheek and ran her knuckles down the burnt side of his face. He closed his eyes and kissed her fingertips before he laid his head back down.

Arya got an idea and smiled wickedly. She climbed up his body with her hands and legs on either side of him until her face was overtop of his. She kissed him lightly until he opened his handsome brown eyes. She bumped his forehead with her own lightly and smirked down at him.

“What?” he said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I want to hear you say it,” she murmured with a smile.

“Say what?” he asked.

She felt her grin spread wider across her face because she knew how he would react.

“I want to hear you say you love me,” she said finally.

Sandor groaned and looked away from her. “For fuck sakes, girl,” he growled. “You know I hate all this soft girly shite. You do too! What do you need to hear that shite for?” He moved his hands down to her hips and gripped them tightly.

Arya smiled and kissed him on the cheek sweetly.

“Because I’ve never heard you say it,” she said.

“You heard it in front of your bloody siblings,” he grumbled.

Arya rolled her eyes at him. “No, I heard you _affirm_ that you love me. Which was very sweet by the way, but I want to hear the words come from your lips,” she said.

Sandor grunted and looked away from her, glaring out the window that she was sure he wished he could jump out of.

“I didn’t think you were the type of woman who needed to hear all this mushy garbage,” he complained.

Arya readjusted herself so she was lying on her side with her breasts pressed against his shoulder and propped herself up by her elbow.

“Normally I’m don’t,” she said. “But I want to hear it at least once from you and I promise I wont ever ask again,” she negotiated.

When he didn’t answer and continued to glare out the window she decided on a different tactic.

“Consider it another one of my conditions,” she said.

His eyes snapped over to her and he scowled in betrayal.

“You fight dirty, woman,” he growled.

Arya smiled and continuously looked at him while running her fingers through the hair on his broad chest. “I’m waiting.”

Sandor looked up at the ceiling.

“Rat cunt,” he muttered under his breath. He looked at her hard before finally saying, “Fucking fine! I love you, all right? You happy now?” He snapped.

Arya smiled down at him and nodded, giving him a kiss that he didn’t return out of immature spite. She pressed her forehead against his and absentmindedly began rubbing his chest to soothe his irritations.

“I love you too,” she whispered looking at him deeply.

Sandor harrumphed and put his hand on the back of her head, pushing her back to rest on his chest.

Arya hitched her leg over his and continued to rub his chest the way she knew he liked. She looked up at him again and saw that his eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping yet.

“What do you think we’ll find sailing west?” she asked.

Sandor snorted and kept his eyes closed as he answered. “Hopefully we find land otherwise we’re fucked,” he said.

Arya was quiet for a moment before she got up the courage to ask him her next question.

“If you weren’t following me West where were you planning on going?” she asked.

Sandor shrugged and opened his eyes and looked at her thoughtfully. “Never thought about it,” he said adjusting the pillow under his head and closing his eyes again. “Never thought I would live through killing Gregor.”

“Well where would you be going if I died?” she asked.

Sandor lifted his hand and began idly playing with her hair.

“I don’t know. Would probably serve under your brother,” he said.

“Jon?” she asked.

Sandor snorted and shook his head. “There’s not enough gold in the Seven Kingdoms to make me go back to that frozen shithole. I never want to see snow for the rest of my miserable life. No, I would work under the cripp- er… Bran,” he said, catching himself.

Arya smiled at his attempt to be sensitive to her brother’s disablement. It warmed her that he was at trying to make an effort to spare her feelings.

She laid her cheek back on his chest and began drawing patterns through his chest hair with her finger.

“What would you do?” she asked.

“Whatever he wanted as long as I didn’t have to be in the Kings Guard or work as a shield,” he said.

Arya grew very quiet and braced herself before she asked her next question.

“Did you not want to go west?” she asked quietly.

“What you mean?” he asked.

Arya sighed because she knew she was going to have to spell it out for him.

“Did you want to stay here, in Kings Landing?”

She felt Sandor freeze under her body. She clenched her teeth waiting for an answer.

“You mean I stay here and you leave?” he asked.

Arya felt tears stinging her eyes and she squeezed them shut. She was not about to cry in front of hm. Arya Stark did not cry.

“If you wanted…” she said.

She suddenly felt his hands on her shoulders pushing her up to a sitting position as Sandor sat up so she was straddling his lap. His hands rose to her face and lifted her head so she was forced to look at him.

He looked concerned and almost angry with her.

“The fuck are you trying to say?” he asked. “You want me to leave?”

Arya shook her head quickly and pulled her face away from his hands. She quickly looked down and began picking at her nails.

“I…” Arya started to speak but she felt her voice waiver so she quickly cleared her throat, trying to pull herself together.

“I just don’t want you to be miserable anymore,” she said. “You would be happier in Kings Landing rather than on some boat sailing off to nowhere.” Arya could hear her voice faltering as she spoke. She refused to look at him. She was too embarrassed by all the emotions she was showing. She felt her mask crack and she could hear Jaqen’s voice chiding her on how weak she was.

Sandor grabbed her face between his two giant hands again and yanked her head up so she was forced to look at him. When she tried to pull her head away from his grasp he tightened his grip. She finally looked up at him and saw that he indeed was angry with her.

“You are _mine_ ,” he said, furious. “I’d be miserable without you in Kings Landing, and you’d be miserable if you were forced to stay here.”

He was fully glaring at her now, obviously angry over her suggestion.

“And what of all that loving shite earlier? You make me say it and then what? You just wanted to leave me here, used? Just like you used the blacksmith?” he accused, angry. 

Arya swallowed and tried to will her tears away, but once his began speaking they were already spilling down her cheeks and over his wrists.

“I just don’t want you to be sad anymore,” Arya said thickly. “Now that your brother is dead you can live, really live like you want to. You don’t need me for that.”

Sandor sighed heavily through his nose before he answered.

“I live when I’m with you,” he said tensely. “If you want me to go I will, but don’t do it out of some kind of obligation you think you have to make up for my life choices. You are my woman, I go where you go,” he said fiercely repeating the words he said to her brother earlier.

Arya just felt her tears continue to spill. She looked down and away from him.

“I’ve seen every fucking corner of this world that I want. I could do less with all the fighting and dying as well. This voyage will do us both good,” he said.

He brought her head forwards and kissed her forehead before pressing it against his own.

“You still want me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Arya answered immediately. 

“Then shut the fuck up about all this leaving each other. We’re together until we decide otherwise or we die,” he snapped. “And stop crying,” he added. “It annoys me when you’re sad.”

Despite herself Arya laughed at his ridiculous comment. She quickly pulled her head away from his and quickly wiped her face unable to look him in the eye. She couldn’t believe she just cried in front of him like some ninny.

He pulled her into an embrace, hugging her to his chest with one hand rubbing her back and the other on the back of her head. Arya sagged against him tiredly. The day had been emotionally draining and she needed sleep. She yawned loudly against his chest and she felt him sigh.

“I guess this means you’re not going to let me fuck you again tonight, does it?” he asked.

Arya burst out laughing and punched him lightly in the shoulder. 


	28. Sandor

Sandor had been awake for a while Arya slept soundly the next morning. The light was shining through the dust in the air still left from the Dragon Queen’s carnage. Sandor was basking in the heat provided by not only his wolf-bitch, but also the warmth of the south. He was born in Westeross and he was happy to be home, or what was left of it. He never wanted to visit that rat-hole that was the north ever again.

When she started the stir he let his hand rub up and down her back to settle her back down. Once she relaxed she nuzzled her face into his chest and muttered his name sleepily.

He remembered from weeks ago that she liked having her back rubbed. Hells, he remembered almost everything she liked and didn’t like at this point. He always tried to record it in his memories so he would know for whatever future he had with her.

He knew she hated public displays of affection, he knew she loved throwing knives over sword work, he knew she didn’t like wearing her hair down because it got in her face when she trained, he knew she liked it when he bit her on that special spot on her neck, he knew she hated beets, and he knew she loved him because he was a warrior like her.

Feeling the curves of her body and the softness of her skin reminded him of last night and he grinned at the memory.

When he asked her if he could fuck her again she laughed and he thought that would be his answer. What he didn’t anticipate was her kissing him feverishly.

He always enjoyed the way their tongues constantly battled for dominance. He decided that he would let her be in charge as he was the first time. He remembered she covered his entire face with soft, gentle kisses that warmed his soul.

He remembered how she nipped and bit at his neck and collarbone making him groan in anticipation. She licked his jaw like a good little wolf making him grab her by her hair and force another kiss.

He had heard her giggle girlishly against his mouth and it only made his cock harder.

He remembered how she crawled down his body, leaving trails of kisses until she reached his hard member and took him into her mouth for a second time that night. He remembered her wet, hot, tongue sliding up and down his shaft and her tiny hand grasping at his balls. He remembered groaning and grasping at the back of her head, his fingers lacing through her hair.

She lifted her head away from his cock and looked at him through dangerous eyes. He remembered that made him growl as he looked down at her on all fours, naked with her wet lips. She truly never looked more like a wolf than she did at that moment.

“I like the way you taste,” she whispered before lifting his cock and licking it from base to tip like a piece of candy. Sandor remembered groaning almost embarrassingly loud at that when she looked at him with those predatory big grey eyes again.

“You like the way I suck your cock?” she whispered crudely.

Just the memory of a highborn looking up at him with her fingers wrapped around his manhood and speaking in such terms made him hard all over again. He let her lick and suck his cock until he came with a roar into her mouth, which she swallowed greedily.

For once in his life he didn’t want to be selfish in bed, and he flipped her over and maneuvered her body so she was laying on the bed with her feet on the floor. He had kneeled in between her legs and looked up at her hooded eyes. He never did this with whores. Not once. But before their fight she was teaching him the proper ways to love a woman with his mouth. He knew how to lick her cunt almost expertly before she disappeared for three weeks. He remembered he was nervous he had forgotten some of her lessons. However, when he gripped her hips and began to lap at her cunt and she started panting and crying out his name, he knew he hadn’t forgotten anything.

He looked up at her and saw that her back was arched and she began squirming in his grasp. He draped an arm over her belly to keep her still so he could continue to pleasure her with his tongue. He began teasing her with lazy slow circles around her sensitive nub and she mewled in response. Her thighs began to close around his head so he brought one of his hands to her inner thighs and shoved it away, spreading her legs as wide as they would go.

He heard her cry out and she quickly put her hand over her mouth. He didn’t like that.

Sandor lifted his head from between her legs and crawled up her body.

“N-no…” she stuttered. “Sandor… p…please… please don’t stop,” she whined.

He let his chest slide up against her sweaty body until he finally came in contact with her lips to kiss her. Her arms wrapped around his neck like a vice and he felt her desperately kiss him. He pulled away and chuckled when she was still latched onto him.

He remembered grabbing her by wrists in one hand and pressing them against the pillows above her head.

“Keep these here, my sweet wolf-bitch,” he had said in her ear before taking the lobe in his mouth and sucking on it.

When he had released her wrists and began suckling and nipping at her tits, he felt her hands disobediently running though his hair. He remembered growling and grabbing her roughly by the wrists and slammed them back above her head. He growled at her causing her to whimper his name.

“Keep your hands to yourself or I wont let you finish,” he threatened.

He felt Arya rubbing her thighs together trying to get some, if any release. Sandor moved his thigh between her legs so she wouldn’t be able to come before he wanted her to.

“S-Sandor… please,” she begged.

“No, they stay here or I’m leaving,” he bluffed. It would take wildfire and an army to take him away from her at that second, with her in that state.

“I want to hear you say my name,” he said against her neck. “I want to hear my wolf-bitch howling like she should for her dog,” he growled.

He remembered Arya nodding her acceptance of his conditions and he gave her wrists a final squeeze in warning before he slid back down to the floor.

He gave her no mercy as he rammed two fingers inside of her causing her moan his name louder than he ever heard before. He relentlessly started sucking at her sensitive nub and curled his fingers inside of her as he pumped them in and out.

“Fucking hells, Sandor!” she panted. “Don’t stop... oh... _fuck_... I’m going to come... S-Sandor... shit... _please_...” 

He heard her moan his name after a string of cusses over and over until her entire body arched and she was deadly quiet. She stayed like that for one heartbeat before he felt her walls clench around his fingers and she screamed his name. He rode out her high until she was finished, sucking at her like a babe to a teat, and watched her proudly as she writhed from where he was crouched between her legs.

She looked a right mess. She was panting and covered in sweat. Her thighs were quivering with her hands still clutching at the sheets above her head. The hair between her legs was soaking wet with a combination of her arousal and his saliva. It reminded him of the first time they fucked many moons ago.

He remembered crawling back up her body and laying down next to her and propping his head up by his elbow. He looked her over with a smirk, clearly feeling pleased with himself that he brought her to such a state again. When she opened her eyes she looked up at his smirking face and she slapped him on the shoulder.

“Don’t be so smug,” she had snapped, although he did see the smile on her face.

He remembered chuckling at her and kissing her on the forehead.

“It’s easy to be smug when I can make my woman scream,” he grinned down at her lovingly.

He was wrenched out of his recollection of the previous night when Arya mumbled his name in her sleep and moved her hand from his ribs to his chest.

He sighed thinking about his future with the little woman tucked against his side. Their conversation last night frightened him to lengths he could not admit out loud. When she first asked if he would rather stay and her leave, he wanted to throttle her. He was furious she would even suggest something so stupid. She could have told him she wanted to go to the moon and he would’ve followed her. She should know that by now at least.

It did touch him that she was thinking of his wellbeing in staying put in Westeross. But he wasn’t about to make her miserable in payment for his pure happiness, nor was he about to leave her side when they both clearly wanted each other.

It also touched him that she was so upset over the prospect of leaving him. He never had anyone cry over his worthless soul before. It was an odd feeling of helplessness and concern mixed together when he felt her tears on his hands. He hated that feeling and it annoyed him that she was making him feel it.

In all honesty he really didn’t want to leave Kings Landing, but he would never tell her that. He would find happiness wherever she was, even if it was on some over-crowded ship with a bunch of stinking men.

The idea of permanently waking up and going to bed with her every evening was exceedingly enticing. He didn’t care if they were freezing their asses off north of the wall, as long as he was with her, he really didn’t give a shit.

He felt Arya begin to wake when she stretched out like a cat as she always did in the morning.

Her hand found his chest again and began rubbing it affectionately. Sandor swallowed and tried to get a hold of himself. How did such a miniscule gesture make him want to bend her over a table and fuck her senseless?

“Morning,” she mumbled against his chest.  

“Morning, sweetling,” he replied with his hand running up and down her back.

She nuzzled her face further into his chest hair and said something unintelligible.

“Hmm?” he asked after a yawn.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked more clearly.

Sandor shrugged and he felt her hand move from his chest back to his stomach. It was clear she was still dog-tired from the night previous and he couldn’t blame her. He was tired from the last three weeks when they weren’t speaking to one another. The only time sleep came to him that time was when he drowned himself in wine in his room.

Arya then pointed to the destroyed table in the corner. She lifted her head and looked around his room in confusion. He realized the room must look a mess since he took his sword to it weeks ago.

“What happened in here?” she asked.

Sandor winced and clutched her tighter to his chest. He hated admitting weaknesses and she was constantly reminding him that she was his only one.

“When you wouldn’t talk to me that day outside the training grounds I needed to kill something,” he embarrassingly mumbled.

He felt her smile against his chest and before she could mock him he gripped her hip tightly and said: “Not a fucking word, girl.”

She laughed against his chest and finally looked up at him.

She looked much better than she did last night. The bags under her eyes were gone and there was a pink flush to her cheeks and lips. She was also wearing that gorgeous smile of hers, rather than the scowl he saw for the past weeks.

She placed both her palms on top of one another and laid her chin on her hands. She was looking at him with that same fucking mischievous grin she had last night.

“You better not fucking ask me to tell you that ninny shite again, girl,” he said. “If you do I’ll chuck out that fucking window.”

She laughed and craned her neck to kiss him on the jaw.

“You missed me,” she said smugly. Still grinning at him with that bloody look in her eye.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled. 

She laughed again and this time had to climb up his body to kiss him fully on the mouth.

When they parted she moved her lips to his ear and whispered, “I missed you too.”

Sandor didn’t say anything, nor did he think she expected him to. It warmed him to know he was missed, to know that he was actually cared for by someone.

She sat up from the bed and swung her legs over the side.

“Where you goin’?” he asked reaching for her wrist and pull her back.

Arya fell backwards from the unexpected shove forcing the back of her head to ram down on his chest.

“Let go you big ape,” she complained. “We can’t stay in bed all day, I only told my brother about you yesterday. The last thing I need is for him to think his baby sister is some nymph who can’t keep her legs closed,” she snapped, yanking her hand out of his grasp and sitting back up.

Sandor chuckled and sat up as well and let his eyes rake over her naked body as she tried to find her clothes.

“Well, to be precise last night you didn’t really keep you legs closed at all if you remember,” he said.

Arya threw a pillow at his head that he caught easily but not before he saw her smile impishly.

She was sitting on the bed with her back to him. She had already put on her breeches and now was lacing up her boots. Her sark was on, but it still remained untied.

Sandor reached across the bed and wrapped his arms around her ribs and pulled her to settle in between his legs with her back pressed to his chest.

She sighed but didn’t say anything else. She just continued to lace her boots as if he wasn’t there.

He didn’t like being ignored so he nuzzled his face into her neck and let his hands drift under her shirt to slide along her belly and cup her young breasts. 

“Sandor…” she said in warning.

“Yes, m’lady?” he asked innocently while pinching her nipples and biting her ear.

She was quiet for a moment and leaned into him humming in pleasure. He smiled when her head lolled back onto his shoulder as he continued to fondle her body.

He went back to sucking on his bite mark on her neck, loving that it was still there.

His hand was just about to slide his hand down her belly and into the front of her pants when she elbowed him in the ribs and scooted away from his embrace.

She got up from the bed and grinned at him.

 _Such a fucking tease_ , he thought.

“You’re hornier than a green boy,” she said with a smile in her eyes.

Sandor got up from the bed, stark naked, and took her chin in his hand and looked down at her.

“Says the girl who was begging for me to fuck her against a door last night,” he said before giving her a quick kiss. He chuckled at her ears going red and her attempt to avoid looking down at his naked body.

When he walked passed her to take a piss he gave her a firm slap on the rump and chuckled at her squeak of surprise.


	29. Arya

After they were dressed Arya made her way with Sandor to the castle doors to the war council’s chambers for a meeting to discuss the next steps for setting sail west. Arya kept her mind off the passionate night she had with Sandor as well as the sweet and playful morning she had with him as well. Every time she let he mind go there a smile would spread upon her face and the blood would rush to her ears.

When they made it to the gates Sandor stopped and grabbed her by the sleeve of her coat.

“I’ll meet you after you’re done,” he said.

Arya raised a brow at him in question. “Second in Command should probably be there,” she said.

“Is that an order, m’lady?” he challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.

Arya rolled her eyes at him. “If it was an order you would know it,” she said.

Sandor chuckled and looked behind them at the men ogling the new couple.

“I’m not going to listen to a bunch of cunts yapping about nothing,” he said turning his head back to her. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Arya nodded. She knew he hated things like diplomacy and meetings. She also knew that after last night he would do as he was told without question, which made her feel surer that he would remain by her side for a very, very long time.

Sandor turned and left her to her business in the castle.

When she got to the council meeting all her siblings were there as well as Breanne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister and Greyworm.

For hours they sat around the table and began discussing logistics of how the Kingdoms were to be organized and what ships were to be given to her. Arya rarely spoke and when she did it was either a curt ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ The entire thing bored her to no end, but she knew to keep her mouth shut.

That was until Sansa opened her mouth to put in her two cents.

“What will become of the Kingdoms when we need someone to take over for the Starks?”

Jon looked up from the map of the Kingdoms and looked at her questioningly. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Sansa was looking directly at Arya when he said this. “Well since I am a Queen to my own Kingdom, my first born will take over Winterfell,” she started. “And since Bran cannot have children, we are going to need someone of our own blood to take over the Six Kingdoms.”

When no one said anything she addressed Arya directly.

“How long are you going to be on your little journey?” she asked in that same condescending tone.

Arya kept her face as still as stone. “Until I find something west of here,” she said.

“And if you find nothing? What then?” Sansa asked, leaning back in her chair.

Arya folded her arms behind her back and also leaned back in her chair. “If you have something to say, Sansa, then just say it.”

Sansa’s torso shot forward and she leaned her elbows on the table. “You have a responsibility to this family,” she said pointing her finger on the table. “We can still salvage what little reputation you have and make sure the throne stays within our family.”

Arya sighed and stood, her chair scraping across the floor as she did so. She then slowly walked around the table as she spoke.

“Why? So I can be traded off to some Lord? To pop out his babes and keep his house?” she asked.

When she finally reached her sister Sansa was glaring up at her from where she sat. “It is the duty of a Lady to bare sons. Even if you don’t want to be one, you are. And its time that you grow up and expect that. Even if you are dragging our name through the mud by opening your legs for that monster.”

“Your Grace, if I may,” Tyrion Lannister said.

“You may not!” Sansa snapped.

Arya sighed and began un-tucking her tunic and sark from her pants.

“Arya! What are you doing!” Jon said covering his eyes and looking away.

“I’m showing you why me becoming a Lady is impossible,” she said, and lifted her layers to show the scars on her belly given to her by the waif.

The entire room was silenced at what they saw.

When she was satisfied that they understood what she meant she tugged her clothing back down and walked back to her seat.

“Well,” said Tyrion. “I think we can all agree that when King Bran is ready to give up the Throne, the four of you may decide whom he is to give it to,” he said quietly.

“Who did that to you?” Sansa asked Arya meekly.

Arya looked at her sister seriously. “Doesn’t matter, they’re dead now.”

Sansa leaned even more forward. “But have you had a maester look at it? Are you certain you can’t bare any children at all?” she prodded, looking concerned.

“I am certain,” Arya said finally.

Jon reached between their two chairs and grasped his Arya’s hand and squeezed it. Arya didn’t respond. Although she loved her brother, she didn’t like all this tenderness in front of strangers.

Jon finally released her hand and looked over at Sansa.

“So are we in agreement? We will decide who inherits the Throne after Bran is no longer willing?” he asked.

Sansa looked at her sister in concern before nodding at Jon.

They continued to speak for a few more hours and decided that Arya was to have three ships with crews to match.

When the meeting was adjourned Sansa asked Arya to stay back so they could speak in private. The rest of the council filed out quietly. Arya saw Jon give Sansa a warning glance as he wheeled Bran out of the small room.

The Stark sisters sat across the table in silence with Sansa looking out the window and Arya staring coldly at Sansa.

Sansa huffed and finally looked back at Arya.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said softly. “No woman should have the gift of having children ripped away from her.”

Arya just looked at her sister plainly. She didn’t know what to say, quite frankly.

“Do you really hate me so much that you want to aboard some boat and leave? Never to return without ever seeing me again?” Sansa asked.

Arya rolled her eyes at her sister. Although Sansa had hardened considerably over the years, Arya sometimes forgot that she was much more sensitive than she was.

Arya unfolded her arms from her chest and sighed. “I’m not doing it to get away from you, Sansa,” she said. “I’m doing it because I’ve wanted to since I was a child, you know this.”

Sansa looked at the table where her finger was drawing imaginary patterns. “Certainly doesn’t feel that way,” she mumbled.

“I’m leaving my entire family,” Arya said sadly. “So are you in going to Winterfell, so is Jon in going to the wall, and Bran too. This wasn’t an easy decision for me.”

Sansa sighed and nodded. “I know that now.”

She looked up at Arya with concern. “Do you actually love him, Arya? Do you _really_ love him? Are you certain?”

Arya clenched her jaw. She hated that she was to be talking about this shit yet again.

“Yes,” she said fiercely.

“But why?” Sansa whined. “I mean if you get passed his face and age, what do you possibly see in that man?” Sansa leaned forward and looked deeply into Arya’s eyes. “He’s rude and mean. He deliberately tries to hurt people’s feelings! He’s cruel and has probably killed more innocent lives than bad.”

Arya sighed and glared at her sister.

“If I tell you will you shut up about it and never ask me about this shit again?” she hissed.

Sansa nodded, looking at Arya intently.

“I love him because he’s loyal. He traveled from the Vale to Winterfell, _in the dead of winter_ , just to protect _me_. When I was a child he could have sold me off to a bunch of Lannister men and had me raped for coin and he didn’t. He risked his life and fought hundreds of weights just to stay close to me. He’s never lied to me about anything, even the harsher realities of this world. He kept me warm when I was cold and always fed me before himself, even when we were starving. He loves me because I’m me. Not for some shit reason of being beautiful or lovely. He likes that I am strong and don’t mince words. I don’t know where I would be without him.”

Arya swore that was the most she had spoke at one time in over a year. She didn’t realize half of it until the words left her mouth.

Both the sisters sat there in silence taking her words in. Sansa was the first to speak.

“And you’re sure he loves you?” she asked quietly.

Arya nodded without hesitation.

Sansa got up and walked over to Arya, motioning for her to stand as well.

“Then I suppose I am happy for you,” she said begrudgingly.

Arya sighed and wrapped her arms around Sansa and she hugged her back.

“If he ever hurts you or breaks your heart, send a raven to me and I will have every man and boy in my army hunt him down and rip him apart,” Sansa hissed in Arya’s ear.

Arya actually felt tears prick her eyes at her sister’s protectiveness and looked up at her. 

“Thank you, Sansa,” Arya said.

Sansa smiled down at her and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before they strode out the door.

She and Sansa parted ways and Arya went in search of Sandor. She didn’t have to hunt for long as she found him in the training yards with Podrick Payne, clearly showing Sandor moves he learned with Breanne as his tutor.

Arya walked over to Breanne who was standing off to the side scrutinizing her pupil’s movements.

“How’s he doing?” asked Arya.

Breanne jumped and looked down at Arya with a slight panic. “I’m sorry my Lady, you frightened me,” she said.

“I’m as much a Lady as you are, Breanne,” Arya said. “You may call me Arya.”

Breanne nodded uncomfortably. “He’s doing much better than before,” she said answering Arya’s question. “He still needs work, but I think he may be able to defend himself proper when the time comes.”

Arya nodded and watched as Sandor’s foot shot out and tripped the young lad. He made eye contact with Arya briefly before telling the boy to get up and try to defend himself again.

“He’s a good teacher,” Breanne said quietly.

Arya didn’t respond at first, she didn’t really know what to say.

“…Aye,” Arya said finally.

“He is a good fit for you m’lad- er… Arya,” Breanne said quietly. “I know that not all couples are as… conventional as they are supposed to appear,” she finished.  

Arya nodded uncomfortably. She heard rumors about Jamie Lannister and Breanne, but nothing was ever confirmed. For the first time Arya felt a little bad for killing someone, but only a little.

Podrick fell to the ground again right at Breanne’s feet.

Sandor stomped over to him and sheathed his sword. He held out his hand to the young man and Pod stared at it confusingly at first, but then took it and was hauled to his feet.

“You are not as shit as you were before,” Sandor said. “Considering last time you were as useless as a wooden frying-pan before, you’ve improved considerably.”

Arya was trying not to smile as she turned to get lunch with Sandor following silently beside her.

“What?” he said when they were out of earshot of the other men.

“I’ve made you soft,” she said quietly.

Sandor looked around to see if anyone was looking at them with prying eyes. When apparently no one was looking at them, he reached his hand out and squeezed her fingertips.

“I think we both know you have the opposite effect on me.”


	30. Sandor

Sandor ate in the corner quietly while he waited for Arya to be done with her younger brother. They were to leave in two weeks time and he was itching to get out of this bloody city.

Over the past few days he barely saw Arya as there was so much preparation to get the boats and crew ready. She was often, if not always, awake and getting ready in the morning before him. She would give him a chaste kiss goodbye and then he wouldn’t see her again until dinner or training with the men at midday. At night she was so exhausted from meetings all day that they would eat in silence. When they would go to bed she would sit between his legs with her back to his chest. She would caress his arms and he would stroke her hair. Sometimes they would talk and sometimes they would fuck, but most of the time she would fall asleep like that. He was usually spending his nights trying to get her tunic and boots off without rousing her.

He spent the majority of his time training the men. They weren’t completely useless. In fact, most of them were far better than the majority of the Lannister men. He figured that was a product of having Jon Snow train them in preparation for the war. He usually sat by himself when he ate lunch. Sometimes the men would join him but when they realized he wasn’t a talker they stopped. Occasionally he would see Arya enter the hall and sit next to him, looking tired and acting like a bitch. When he told her she should take a break and stop going to those bloody meetings she would usually snap at him and tell him to mind his own business.

He noticed all this work was effecting her fighting too. When she came to train she was slower and took more blows than usual. She still won the majority of the fights, but he could tell she was dog-tired. He wanted her to be done with all this fucking planning before she was seriously hurt. Not that he would ever try and stop her from fighting. He knew better than anyone that having a leader fight with the soldiers was the best way to gain their respect, even more so if it was a woman.

He found himself actually getting a little excited at the prospect of leaving with his woman in tow to find new lands. It would mean that she wouldn’t be so tired and crabby. He was even more excited that they could be as open as they wanted on a ship without the prying eyes of her entire fucking family.

He remembered yesterday he was sitting on a bail of hay in the training grounds watching Arya fight a man three times the size of her. He had to confess that watching her beat another man in a sword fight made his cock twitch. What he didn’t like was when the man backhanded her and she fell to the ground causing blood to seep out of her mouth.

Sandor remembered his hands flexing, he wanted to grab the man by his throat and press his thumbs into his esophagus until he turned blue. He had to physically breath a little deeper to calm himself. He knew Arya would be furious if he stepped in and defended her in this moment. He also knew that none of the men would respect her as a Captain if she were always relying on her dog to protect her. She was proving that she was well capable of protecting herself.

Not that she had to prove that anyway. In the last week or so more and more men were signing up to aboard the fleet of ships the Night King slayer was to Captain. He overheard the men speaking about her in admiration and gratitude for all her heroics. He always had to grit his teeth at the remarks that followed, which usually centered on what a vixen she would be like in bed.

He remembered when the man submitted in the fight and she helped him up. The man said something to her and she smirked once and nodded. When she began to walk towards Sandor he saw the man staring directly at her buttocks and Sandor glared at him. When Arya reached him she grabbed the water skin from him and drank it thoroughly. She looked at him in question and then back at the man who quickly turned and walked away.

He remembered Arya rolling her eyes at him in exasperation and saying, “I’m the only woman here, Sandor. And I probably will be the only one on the ship. You’re going have to get used to men staring and making boorish comments about me. It happens all the time.”

Sandor just replied with a grunt. He wanted to make every man too afraid to even think to look at her in anything but respect. But apparently that was asking too much as well.

He had heard Arya sigh and turn around only to back up again. She had to lift herself a little but she perched her bottom on the end of Sandor’s knee.

Sandor grinned and grabbed her by the hips and pulled her closer with her legs overhanging so she was fully sitting on his lap. He kept one arm around her waist to steady her and the other snagged the water skin from her.

He had liked that she was actively trying to make him happy by adhering to his request.

Sandor looked over to the man that was staring at her before and saw that he had a look of disappointment across his face. When he saw Sandor glaring at him, he quickly looked away. Clearly chagrined that he was caught staring at another man’s woman. Let alone the Hound’s woman.

Sandor remembered lifting his hand to wipe away the blood from the corner of her mouth.

She winced and slapped his hand away.

“I’m not some ninny that can’t take a hit,” she hissed quietly.

Sandor nodded and sighed. He didn’t like seeing her get hurt but he knew that she was right. The men would think that one of them was too soft if he continued to do that. He also knew she could take several hits as he’s seen them.

They were sitting their quietly scrutinizing the two new opponents’ moves with her nestled securely on his lap when he saw Jon approaching them.

Sandor huffed out his nose annoyed. He gave his wolf-bitch a gentle push and when she looked at him questioning, he nodded in the direction of her brother and she sighed jumped off his lap.

That was only yesterday. Everyday he stayed here he could feel the Little Bird’s eyes glaring holes into his back. He could see that she was studying his every move around her sister and it was aggravating him. The Bastard was no better. But he at least tried to make it look like he was doing something else when he was caught. Little Bird just continued to stare with no qualms of making Arya or himself uncomfortable.

Sandor finished his stew and continued to wait on Arya. He didn’t have anything else to do today so he was in no rush to be anywhere.

He was picking his teeth with a knife when he saw Jon walk into the hall and look around. When he saw Sandor he began walking towards him after grabbing two cups of ale.

“For fuck sake,” Sandor growled.

 _Why can’t this blasted family leave me be?_ he thought.

“This seat taken?” Jon asked when he reached the table.

Sandor resisted the urge to tell him to fuck off and just shook his head.

Jon sat and pushed the cup of ale across the table and regarded him with careful eyes.

 _If he’s expecting me to talk he’s going to be waiting a long fucking time_ , Sandor thought.

Jon sighed and looked at him a little more pointedly before he spoke.

“Have you ever captained a ship before?” Jon asked.

Sandor shrugged. “Was second Captain when the King was off to meet Cersei for their wedding.”

“Back when you worked for the Lannisters,” Jon summarized.

Sandor nodded and took a sip of the ale and was surprised it wasn’t awful. It was actually quite good.

Jon saw his recognition and grinned. “Found it in the castle. They must’ve never touched it after Lord Barathian died.”

Sandor nodded. “That man was shit at pretty much everything but he did keep good ale in the castle,” he said. “The day after he died that bitch had it all brought to the cellars to rot.”

Jon nodded and they both sat there in an awkward silence while drinking their ale.

Jon finally looked up at him with an odd look in his eye that Sandor couldn’t place.

“What?” Sandor snapped. “You got something to say just say it. Quit all this nuancing around.”

Jon chuckled and shook his head. “You are more like Arya than I thought,” he said. Sandor did not understand what he meant by that, but stayed quiet.

When he finally looked back up at him he had that look again.

“What are your plans with my sister?” he asked.

Sandor stared at him confused. “You know my plans, Snow. We’re going west.”

Jon rolled his eyes and leaned forward. “I know you’re going west. I want to know what your plans are _with_ _her_.”

Sandor looked at him blankly, still not understanding.

Jon sighed and leaned back folding his arms across his chest.

“Are you planning on asking for her hand?” Jon asked point blank.

Sandor groaned and took a sip of his ale before answering. “If she wants that I will give it to her,” he answered finally.

“You and I both know she will never ask you to do that,” Jon scoffed.

“Then what do you want from me?” Sandor snapped. He was tired of all this talk surrounding his relationship with Arya. It made sense to the both of them, and he didn’t feel comfortable talking about it with her siblings.

“I want to know what her future with you is going to look like,” Jon explained. “I want to know that my sister will be safe when I am not able to be there to protect her.”

Sandor huffed out a sigh. He supposed he should have realized he was going to have to have this conversation. He just didn’t expect it today.

He finished his ale before he answered.

“I will go wherever she goes. As long as it doesn’t put her in danger I will do whatever she asks,” he said.

Jon was staring at him intently. “And that’s it? You will just do whatever she asks?”

“Yes.”

Jon stared at him in disbelief for a moment. He laughed once and ran his hands through his dark hair. Another thing he had in common with Arya Sandor noticed.

“You know she can be handful,” he warned. “She likes doing dangerous things and it’s almost impossible to stop her from doing something once she’s made her decision.”

Sandor barked out a laugh. “Believe me, my Lord. I know better than anyone how wild she can be. But I can keep her in check if I have to, even when she tries to claw my eyes out.”

Jon chuckled with him and took a sip from his glass. He looked at Sandor seriously again before he spoke. “Just keep her safe, Clegane. She’s a good fighter but I worry about her,” he said quietly.

“Aye, I’ll keep her safe,” he said dumping a large portion of ale into his mouth.

He saw Jon was examining him again, looking him up and down as if trying to solve an equation he couldn’t comprehend.

“What?” Sandor asked. 

Jon just looked at him in an odd scrutinizing gaze before he finally answered. “When Arya told me you died protecting her in the Vale I didn’t believe her,” he said quietly, staring into his cup. “But I can see from the way you look at her and how you follow her around like a shadow that you’ll do anything for her.”

Sandor shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He looked anywhere that wasn’t in the direction of the eldest living Stark.

“Why is that?” Jon asked leaning forward with his elbows braced on the table. “Why, out of all the years you’ve been living, and all the people that have come and gone in the Seven Kingdoms, why did you choose my sister?”

Sandor huffed in irritation. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about with anyone. He had a hell of a time telling Arya that he loved her and he sure as shit didn’t want to have to explain why to her older brother.

Sandor glared at him from across the table. “That’s my fucking business,” he spat.

Jon just continued to stare at him intently. It was clear he was not leaving without an explanation and Sandor was getting more and more irritated by the second. He actually had to count to ten in order to keep himself from punching the man in the jaw. A Braavosian technique Arya had actually taught him after one night he shoved a man that was asking him too many questions about his scars.

“I didn’t choose her,” Sandor muttered. “She just fell into my lap a second time and… it… it works.”

That was the only explanation Sandor would divulge to him. He would never say that he loved her because she was a fierce warrior. Or that he thought she was beautiful in every way. He would never tell him that when he watched her fight it drove him crazy because she was so graceful and fluid with her motions, and that it both terrified and aroused him. He would never tell him that he liked her bark and her bite. And he would most certainly never tell him that she was the best fuck he ever had, especially with an ass like hers.

Jon chuckled and emptied his cup and stood.

“Well, you have your work cut out for you Clegane,” said Jon. “I’m sure she will test you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

Sandor nodded as Jon left the table only to pass the very woman they were speaking of.

Arya was carrying a bowl of stew and a wine glass. She looked back and forth between Sandor and her brother questioningly before she sat down next to him.

“What were you talking to Jon about?” she asked, taking a sip from her cup.

Sandor shrugged and sat back, leaning against the wall.

“Nothing of importance,” he said.

Arya looked up at him and he could immediately tell she knew he was smothering parts of truth.

Sandor frowned when he saw that a bruise was fully formed on the corner of her mouth. That big fucker must’ve hit her hard enough yesterday because it was clear the mark was only going to get darker.

Sandor lifted his hand and gently brushed his thumb over the bruise.

“You train too hard, girl,” he said softly. “You need to preserve your strength for when we set sail.”

She swatted his hand away from her face and scowled at him.

“If I wanted a septa I would ask my sister,” she said angrily.

He sighed and let it go. He understood that when it came to things like fighting they would never agree, so there was no point in arguing.

“What were you talking to Jon about?” she asked again, this time more seriously.

He groaned and looked up at the ceiling, she wouldn’t let this go, he just knew it.

 _Such a stubborn Bitch,_ he thought.

“He wanted to know if I am going to ask for your hand,” he said looking back at her. “He wanted to know why we are together and he told me to keep you safe.”

Arya looked at him dumbfounded for a moment before she burst out laughing.

“Shit, Jon is more of a woman than I am,” she said wiping the tears from her eyes.

Sandor grinned back and her and ruffled her hair affectionately.

“What’d you tell him?” she asked, still clearly amused.

Sandor sighed heavily. “Which part?”

Arya was grinning up at him now. Clearly enjoying his discomfort.

“All of it.”

Sandor snagged her glass of wine from her hand and took a big gulp before answering.

“I told him if you wanted to get married I would do it. I also told him we work well together,” he said.

“And what did Jon say to that?’ she asked, stealing back her glass from his big hand.

“He wished me luck,” Sandor chuckled.

Arya scoffed and punched him in the shoulder lightly before she began eating. Sandor grinned at the fact he barely felt the blow but appreciated it all in the same.

He was especially appreciative she didn’t make him talk further about this shit.


	31. Arya

Arya lay awake dreading the sunlight that began to shine through the window of her and Sandor’s quarters. Today was the day that Arya knew she would hate. It was the day Jon was to be exiled from Westeross, never to return again.

The days leading up to this she kept herself busy to keep her mind off it. She went to every meeting she could find and trained until her palms bled. She knew it was stupid and childish in trying to deny that her brother was actually leaving, but she did it anyways.

She also knew that by the time she would return to her chambers she would have those same nightmares she did when she watched her father being beheaded. It was like forces beyond her control were ripping another family member away from her. At least when she agreed to sail west she knew she could come back at any time and reunite with her family. Jon would never be able to do that; he would always be cold and alone next to that fucking wall.

Arya could hear Sandor grunt in his sleep behind her. He was clutching her midsection with her head pillowed under his other arm. His bare chest was warming her entire back and his thighs were pressed tightly to the back of her legs. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck and it made goose bumps arise on her arms.

She sighed heavily. She didn’t want to move from their bubble of warmth but knew the day needed to be dealt with.

She gently wrapped her fingers around his thick wrist and lifted his arm off her. She then gently extracted herself from the bed without making and sudden movements so not to wake him. When she was standing over the bed she looked down at his sleeping form.

Over the past week or so he was very understanding. She knew his patience was wearing thin on her busy schedule and he was about to snap at her. She was grateful for his company and his patience. He never asked her stupid questions like if she was alright or if she needed to talk about it. He knew that she would come to him when she was ready and she was thankful for that. She just really didn’t want to talk about the sadness that was going to envelop her when her favorite brother was going to leave her, _again_. 

Part of her was angry with Jon. He should have never got into bed with that woman. Even more so he should have pretended that he wanted her still, even after she went crazy. He could’ve manipulated her into different actions. Or he could have got her Braavosian help and killed the Dragon Queen in a more discreet way. There were so many options, but he chose the most idiotic route and it led to their family being ripped apart yet again.

She sighed heavily and got ready for the day.

She couldn’t look at Sandor because she knew he was anticipating this day and how she would react. She could see the worry in his eyes whenever it was mentioned and she hated that look. She didn’t want his pity, she wasn’t a little girl anymore and she would handle this with the same cold mask that he always did.

She heard Sandor beginning to rouse while she was lacing up her boot.

She looked up and saw him sitting up and evaluating her, as if he was anticipating her next move in a fight.

“I’m going to go and see Jon before he leaves,” she said quietly.

Sandor nodded and looked like he was about to say something that she really didn’t want to hear at that exact moment.

She quickly turned her heel and strode out the door before he could say anything.

She didn’t want to hear his sympathies. She didn’t want to talk about anything with him. She just wanted to be with her brother for one last time. She could hear him call her name when the door shut but she continued to walk down the steps and towards her brother’s room.

When she walked in Jon was doing up his sword belt and was already dressed in furs for the winter.

“Arya!” he exclaimed. She obviously scared him because he jumped when she entered. “You really need to learn to knock or something. You scared the shit out me,” he said.

Arya marched in and without warning threw her arms around him and pressed her cheek into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders tightly and kissed her on the top of her head.

She didn’t have any words for him. She wouldn’t know what to say. She couldn’t tell him that she would miss him or call him stupid for his actions that caused this. She could only show him through her actions. She refused to shed tears. She wouldn’t allow her men to see such weakness.

After a while they released each other and he put his hand under her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“You take care of yourself, okay?” he said. “Don’t go picking fights, and don’t do anything stupid.”

Arya simply nodded and looked down sadly. “It seems as if we are always saying goodbye,” Arya said thickly.

Jon put both his hands on her shoulder and squeezed them firmly. “Yes, but it isn’t goodbye forever. We can all still visit one another and we can keep in touch with ravens.”

He pulled her into another hug and whispered in her ear, “And you listen to Clegane. If he tells you something is too dangerous you stay away. That big monster is mean, but he knows what he’s doing when it comes to fighting,” Jon said.

Arya laughed once and nodded again.

The two Stark children turned when they heard a soft knock at the door before it opened. Sansa stood there tears already streaming down her face as she pushed Bran in. Jon wrapped his arms around all three of them and Arya felt like she may fall apart where she stood.

They stood hugging until a soldier came and warned Jon that it was time to leave.

Arya wanted to throw a dagger into his ugly face but restrained herself.

The walk to the pier was long and grim. None of them said a word as they made their way to the water. Arya clenched her fists in anger and sadness as they walked passed the soldiers. The Unsullied had smug expressions and the Northerners looked like they wanted to cry.

Arya noticed Sandor immediately. He was standing closest to the passageway where Jon was to depart. It was hard to miss him as he loomed over everyone with his height.

She could feel him looking at her but she still kept her face still as stone.

When they reached the edge Jon turned and gave them all a final somber look.

Because her back was to all of her men she let her face fall as she watched her brother turn and hop aboard the small boat that would lead him to a ship.

She stood there at the end of the pier watching her brother leave again to the wall and she was in pieces. Sansa and Bran were standing next to her, all trying to fight the tears that were surely going to follow. She already hugged him and said her goodbyes, but she didn’t want this when she wanted the Dragon Queen dead. She should’ve done it; she would be leaving anyway.

The three Stark children made their way back through the passageway after Jon was out of sight. She sensed Sandor still looking at her and still refused to meet his gaze.

When Arya reached the training grounds she quickly veered off to the left, away from her siblings, into a narrow passageway where the stable boys kept their equipment. She kept walking quickly until she found an open door that was unoccupied and slammed it shut as hard as she could. She leaned against the door and slid down until she was sitting.

She pulled her arms over her head and she felt the tears beginning to fall to the ground. She thrust the crook of her arm to muffle the sound of her scream. She then began to kick the wall opposite her as if trying to break through the stone while she punched the stone floor.

Once her fit was over she was panting with her cheeks soaking wet. She looked down and saw that her knuckles were covered in blood.

She wrapped her arms around her knees and muffled her sobs into her lap. She stayed there for hours, each time she tried to stop her tears they just came again and again.

It wasn’t until the evening she had finally stopped crying. She waited another hour so there was no evidence on her face that she had been crying before she got up and brushed off the dirt that covered her pants. Her legs and arms had gone numb and her eyes felt dry from all the tears she shed. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.

 _All you have to do is walk from here to your room. Then you can keep crying there,_ she thought.

She unlatched the door and when she stepped out she was shocked to see Sandor standing outside the door quietly.

How long had he been standing there? She didn’t even hear him approach the door much less standing there the entire time she was crying like a little girl.

She looked down quickly in embarrassment.

He took a step towards her and put a finger under her chin and gently probed her to look up at him. When she did she saw his face was laced with worry and concern.

She swallowed the tears down and quickly walked around him and up to their chambers.

He didn’t return for a while, maybe an hour or so. She was appreciative he was giving her the space for a little while longer.

She was curled up in a ball on her side off to the very edge of the bed when she heard him enter. She didn’t move or even breath, as she was terrified he would hear uneven breaths of a woman crying.

She heard his heavy foot steps come towards the bed, she heard the ruffling of his clothes as he undressed for bed, and she felt the weight of the bed shift when he lay down next to her.

When he got under the covers she felt his arms reach for her and drag her across the mattress to the middle of the bed where she usually slept. He wrapped his arms around her and held her so tightly she had trouble breathing. Arya finally relaxed from her ball-like form and turned in his arms and pressed her face to his chest. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and fisted her hands in his shirt.

She felt her breathing beginning to quicken again and the tears began to spill over her lashes and onto his sark. 

Sandor shushed her and let his hand go under her shirt and rub her bare back.

Arya willed her tears to stop but he still held onto her tightly, as if he was scared she would fall apart without his embrace. When she felt the drowsiness of sleep begin to take hold of her she thought back to the first time Jon had left and how this time was so much worse.


	32. Sandor

Sandor slept like complete shit all night.

He refused to fall asleep before Arya and physically couldn’t sleep because of the noises she was making from her nightmares. She was tossing and turning all night and she heard Jon and his own name escape from her lips several times. Once or twice she muttered Eddard’s name as well.

He noticed right away that her knuckles were bleeding and leaving rust colored stains all over their sheets. He recognized those cuts as he had punched many walls in anger in his life. He also knew that the last thing she would want is for him to wrap them in her sleep. She hated being tended on hand and foot as much as he did, so he left them to bleed.

Sandor started to panic when he saw the early morning rays of light hit his face. He had no idea how to deal with neither a crying woman nor a woman in grieving. Last night he thought he did all right to calm her down from her tears, but he didn’t know what to expect in the morning.

When he saw her leave the pier yesterday he was wracked with worry. He followed her far behind and when he saw her disappear into the stable keep’s supply closet he stood by the door. It was not difficult for him to stand for hours by the door as he did it almost every day for the majority of his life as the Lannister Shield.

When he started to feel her stir awake he tightened his arms around her.

They lay there still for a while before she started to squirm in his grasp, silently asking him to release her.

When he finally loosened his arms Arya started to push on his chest to sit up.

Sandor saw that she was deliberately trying not to look at him and he hated it. He hated when she turned away from him and made to move off the bed silently.

He grabbed her by the sleeve of her shirt and tugged her back so she was facing him. He didn’t tug her hard and she didn’t resist.

He put a hand under her chin and gently lifted her head up to look him in the eye.

When she finally looked at him he could see shame and shyness in her eyes.

He looked at her seriously before he spoke. “You don’t ever have to be scared to show me anything, Arya,” he said softy. 

Arya nodded timidly and looked away from him again.

He grabbed her trapped her tiny face between his hands and let his thumbs stroke her high cheekbones.

“You all right?” he asked finally.

Arya swallowed and cleared her throat quietly before answering in a scratchy voice.

“I am now, yes.”

Sandor nodded and they both got up and silently got ready for the day.

Arya insisted that she wanted to train before they ate breakfast. Sandor didn’t argue with her. He understood why she needed to fight someone. It was the warrior in her; he would’ve wanted to do the same.

He remembered when his father died when he was in his twenties and he fought that very day for almost six hours straight. He refused to get off the field even when a sword cut him deep in the belly. He almost bled out that day until he finally bowed out.

Sandor was sitting off to the side with his arms crossed and watched Arya dodge an Unsullied’s stick. He noticed she was much more aggressive with the Dragon Queen’s army than she was with the Northerners.

He saw the Little Bird making gliding elegantly towards the fighting pits where he was sitting. It was obvious she had been crying moments earlier. When she reached the bench he was sitting on sat next to him and promptly folded her hands onto her lap daintily.

“How long has she been at it?” Sansa asked.

Sandor shrugged. “About an hour,” he answered quietly.

Sansa sighed heavily as Arya threw the man to the ground and pointed her sword inches away from his throat.

“She should be resting,” Sansa scolded.

Sandor snorted and nodded towards her sister who was getting ready to take on the next man. “You wanna tell her that?”

He saw Sansa clench her jaw and squeeze her fingers tighter together.

“How was she last night?” She whispered.

He had to hand it to the Little Bird. She was good at being discreet while extremely observant. To anyone else it would look as though Arya was fine after yesterday’s events.

“She was in rough shape,” he answered finally.

Sansa nodded and continued to watch the battle between the two. “She has always been good at moving past unpleasant things.”

Sandor didn’t say anything. He refolded his arms across his chest and clenched his fists when he saw Arya get her feet kicked out from underneath her and roll away from a sword that came crashing down.

“You need to make sure she visits us,” Sansa said fiercely after a long silence.

Sandor turned and regarded the Little Bird with disgust. “You think I want to keep her away from her family?”

Sansa didn’t look at him but he could tell she was angry.

“You’re the one that’s taking her on that… _voyage_ ,” she said. She then turned to him with a glare. “You’re the one that gets to see her everyday when she could’ve been in Winterfell where she belongs.” 

Sandor exhaled sharply before leaning in to her space. He wanted to frighten her. He wanted to hurt her for being such a hateful bitch.

“Aye, and if it were up to me I would keep her in a farmhouse safely in the countryside outside of Kings Landing,” he hissed. “But alas I am going on a boat to protect her for years to come, to find a land that probably doesn’t exist, in which I’ll probably die, all just to keep her happy and out of trouble. She’s the one that is insisting we go on this bloody journey to nowhere. Not me. So don’t you open your cunt mouth at me and tell me I’m the one that’s making her feel like shit.”

When he finished he turned back to the fighting pit, fuming.

He could hear her gasp at his defiance in his words. He saw her scrambling in trying to find something to say back to him. He liked that. He hoped she would remember it next time she tried to fuck with him.

Sansa got up and looked down at him in abhorrence.

“I hope when she realizes what a horrid man you truly are, she slits your throat in your sleep,” Sansa said quietly before she turned and walked away from the pits.

 _Good_ , thought Sandor. _She doesn’t know anything about her sister anymore. She just wants her to be a pretty maid who stays locked in a castle._

Sandor continued to watch Arya beat man after man that came into the ring. He was worried that she worked through breakfast and even more worried that she wasn’t drinking anything.

When it was an hour past lunch he decided to step in.

He got up and walked over to her panting and leaning against a wall. Sweat covered her face and some of her hair had fallen out of her bindings. He handed her a water skin and was almost surprised that she accepted it and drank it until it was almost empty.

He leaned against the wall next to her. “You need food,” he mumbled quiet enough so that no one could hear.

Arya handed the water skin back to him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I’m fine,” she said just as quietly.

Sandor gave her a long, hard look before he spoke again.

“You gonna make me lecture you in front of all these men?” he threatened.

Her head slowly rose to meet his stare and she clenched her jaw before sheathing her sword. She walked passed him wordlessly towards the food hall.

Sandor followed her and they sat down in their usual spot and ate in silence.

He noticed right away that she ate half as much as she normally did. She was just pushing the food around her plate staring off at the wall.

When she finally stopped pretending she was going to finish her food she got up silently. When he moved to follow she put her hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

“I want to be alone,” she said coldly before turning away from him and marching out the door.

Sandor exhaled heavily out of his nose and let her be. He would do whatever she asked, even if it hurt him to hear.

Sandor went back to the pits and this time it was he to stay in the ring longer than he should have. He fought man after man in pure anger. He was angry that Jon was so stupid and ripped his sister’s happiness away from her. He was angry that Arya could still be such a cold bitch to him. And he was angry that he could do nothing to make her feel better.

He just wanted things to be as they were when they were traveling together. It was an oddly happy time of teasing during the day and fucking at night. He wanted her happy again. He didn’t like all this sad and gloomy shit.

Sandor had no idea how many hours he was fighting when he heard Breanne of Tarth’s squire running towards him at full speed.

“Ser! Ser! You have to go see Lady Sansa right away!” he said.

Sandor stopped drinking from his water and glared at the boy. “Tell the _Lady of Winterfell_ to eat shit,” he growled. “She needs me for something she can come find me.”

“No! It’s Lady Arya. She fell ill and is in her sister’s chambers,” he exclaimed.

Sandor felt his face drop along with his sword. He cussed under his breath and ran towards the castle.

His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. His bad leg ached as he climbed all those blasted stairs but he didn’t care.

 _I will kill the man that did this. I will keep him alive only so he can watch me eat his kidneys_ , Sandor thought.

When he finally reached Sansa’s door he went to open it only for it to be locked.

“Open this fucking door!” he boomed with his fist slamming against the wood. “I swear to the Gods I will cut down every member of your family if you don’t let me see Arya right this instant!” he yelled. His fists were pounding against the door so hard he felt his hand start to bleed.

Finally, he heard the latch open and the door wrenched open only for him to see the Little Bird glaring daggers at him.

“We _just_ got her back to sleep, you heathen!” she hissed in silence. “You need to be quiet, _if_ that’s even possible for a brute like you.”

Sandor stormed passed her angrily to see his wolf-bitch asleep under the covers with that ugly bloody maester looking over her. The old man looked positively petrified when he saw Sandor and he skittered to the corner of the room.

Sandor made it over to the bed in three long strides and crouched down to get a better look at her.

She was pale, well paler than usual. Her forehead was still shining with sweat and her knuckles were still covered in dried blood from either her fight today or her punching the wall yesterday. Her lips were less pink than they usually were and she was shivering slightly even though it was hot and stuffy in Sansa’s chambers.

Sandor tucked the covers tighter around her chin; he knew she liked having the covers that high. He also moved to remove the bindings in her hair; she always hated sleeping with her hair up. He remembered her muttering that it made her head sore.

As he worked on getting her more comfortable he spoke. “What in Seven Hells happened?” he growled lowly.

“Ser, I believe she was overexerting herself all day,” the maester said quietly. “After you so rightly gave her food, she was seen shooting while running obstacles with her bow and arrow,” the maester explained.

Sandor looked at the sleeping girl in anger. “She should’ve known better,” he muttered under his breath.

After the maester gave Sansa the proper medications and said farewell, Sandor was left alone with the Stark sisters.

Sandor lifted a chair from the corner and brought it over to sit right next to the bed, facing her. He leaned forward and held her hands in his own to warm them. For once he did not care that anyone would perceive him as weak as he blew into his hands in trying to speed up the process.

He heard the Little Bird shift her weight not knowing what to do.

“She’s always cold if she’s sleeping alone with one fur,” he mumbled. “She’s going to need another blanket.”

“Of course,” Sansa said quickly walking to the door to get something from the linens.

Sandor quickly thought of something before she left. He quickly turned his head to stop her.

“Don’t bring another fur, she gets too hot, just a blanket. And she’ll want something sweet when she wakes. Usually berries or jam on bread will do,” he told her.

Sansa gave him an odd look of tenderness before she nodded and left. 


	33. Sansa

Sansa felt herself fighting sleep as she sat in the chair place by the side of her sister opposite the Hound. She shifted in her seat and sat a little more upright to keep her awake. She looked at him.

He really was a beast of a man. Although right now he looked less of a rabid hound and more of a beaten dog. His shoulders were slumped over and he was still holding Arya’s hands in the both of his, even though it had been hours in an uncomfortable position. The candlelight shown across his scarred face and she could see his eyes were tired and feral at the same time, and they never left Arya’s face. The worry lines in his face looked like they were scetched there since birth and the bags under eyes only got darker as the night progressed. One of his legs was bouncing consistently since he sat down and wouldn’t stop. She heard him mumble a few curses under his breath like, “stubborn cunt,” and “I told you to eat, you dumb bitch.”

Although Sansa didn’t agree with the language, she did agree with the sentiment.

She watched as this man who was known to cut down armies was now huddled over her tiny sister with worry. It was like watching a lion worry over a kitten.

Sansa could see now that she had made a grave error in judgment when it came to him.

When her sister first told she was with the Hound Sansa was furious. She knew it was wrong that the first thing that came to her mind was the loss of a potential suitor she could marry Arya off to, but she thought it none the less. When that shock was over her next thought was how her sister could ever love a mutilated dog like the Hound.

He was ugly and brash. He had no etiquette and drank way too much for Sansa’s liking. She also hated that he was so mean to everything in sight. He wasn’t a pleasant man. He was a Lannister dog who was twice her sister’s age.

But after tonight Sansa realized that he might still be a lot of those things, he was also completely in love with her sister. She could see it in his core.

She couldn’t believe she never saw it before this! The way he followed her around constantly, or how he was always watching Arya with animal-like eyes for all these weeks. It was like he was her watchdog now. 

She only realized it tonight when she saw how upset he was in seeing Arya in such a state. The way he gently brushed her hair away from her face and took her hands. It was shown in how he knew exactly what helped her sleep and what she liked to eat when she was awake, and how seriously he gave her instructions to gather the things Arya would want. Sansa had only ever seen that love once before, and that was between her parents.

She immediately felt awful for the things she said to him. When she told him he was a disgusting dog weeks ago and telling him he hoped Arya would kill him that very day.

“I was wrong about you, Clegane,” she said quietly so not to wake her sister.

Sandor didn’t look up from Arya when he spoke. “’bout what?” he asked.

“I can see you love her. I see that she loves you too. I should’ve realized that earlier and knew that you would never hurt her,” she said.

Sandor rolled his eyes at her. “Course, I’d never hurt her. Been sticking out my neck constantly to make sure she doesn’t die,” he mumbled.

Sansa smiled and shook her head. “That’s not the type of hurt I meant.”

Sandor finally looked across the bed at her. She could tell he was assessing her meaning but still didn’t get it.

Sansa sighed. “I thought you were using her because she was a young maiden. I thought you wanted her for her body just to leave her as soon as you found a brothel,” Sansa said. She normally didn’t speak in such callous terms, but she made an acceptation for the Hound.

Sandor surprisingly chuckled and turned his eyes back to Arya. “Aye, she thought that too,” he said. “When I went to tell her otherwise she threw a knife at me.”

Sansa laughed with him. “That sounds like her,” she said with a wide smile.

She heard Sandor make a huff and then mumble: “I shouldn’t have called you useless and I shouldn’t have called you a cunt.”

Although his words were barely audible she appreciated the apology anyway.

They stayed there in silence for about an hour before he spoke again.

“I still don’t want her to get on that blasted boat,” he told her quietly.

Sansa sensed he had more to say so she waited.

“I’ve never seen her more shook up than when your brother left. But she will never want to stay in Kings Landing or near royalty ever again. She wants to be with her family but she can’t stand watching them get ripped apart by that fucking throne,” he said.

Sansa swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew this to be true she could just never voice the words because she knew she was party to her family being torn to pieces. 

“It wasn’t an easy decision for her to make. You shouldn’t be angry with her because you’ll only torture yourself when can’t see her to apologize,” he said finally.

Sansa sighed and actually had to wipe a tear away from the corner of her eye. She knew he was right.

“I know,” was all she responded.

“And as much as you hate me, I make Arya happy. I do not want her to stay away because of our squabbles,” he said looking directly at her.

Sansa knew that as well. She could tell now that he was going nowhere anytime soon and she had to do what Jon had asked of her. She had to make peace with Arya and the Hound’s strange relationship.

Sansa nodded and looked down at her sleeping sister.

“Just… keep making her happy, okay?” Sansa said. “She’s been through so much that she deserves that,” Sansa said.

She looked and saw the Hound still looking at Arya only to lean down and kiss her gently on the fingers.

“Aye,” he said. “That’s all I’ve ever tried to do.” 


	34. Arya

Arya woke up with a hammering headache. She wanted to groan but nothing came out. Her throat felt raw, like someone poured gravel down it while she was sleeping. She felt warm enough but it was an odd kind of warm. She realized she was alone in bed without Sandor’s body heat and that is why it felt strange. She didn’t like it.

She opened her eyes with difficulty and saw Sandor hunched over in an uncomfortable wooden chair. His cheek was pressed against his shoulder and his arms hung loosely over the armrests. She saw the creases in his face were deeper the bags under his eyes were more prominent than usual.

She realized that she had no idea how she got here. She remembered sprinting around poles and obstacles while shooting her arrow at targets. She remembered her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest but she just kept moving, anything to keep running from the pain of losing her favorite brother.

She sighed and started to sit up, wincing as she did. Judging from the way her muscles ached when she moved she knew she overdid it yesterday. This wasn’t like a regular sore she felt after training. This was something completely different. This felt like very muscle in her body was being pulled off her bones.

She reached to the bedside table and poured herself a cup of water and drank it quickly, only to repeat the act three more times. She also saw a piece of bread smothered in jam and she immediately ate it hungrily. They must’ve known she would be dehydrated and famished when she woke.

Her eyes darted back to Sandor. She did feel horrible that she put him through such worry, and even more so that he fell asleep in such an uncomfortable position. She knew waking him up could be dangerous as his instinct was to think he was being attacked. So when she was done eating she put her hand lightly on Sandor’s knee and gave it a gentle shake, careful not to perturb him too much.

Sandor jumped in his seat and his eyes darted around the room in a discombobulating fashion. When his eyes finally fell to her sitting in the large bed he got up and sat on the side of the bed gingerly.

The creases in his brow scrunched up even further as he held her head in between his hands.

“Arya,” he whispered with his thumbs caressing her cheeks. “How do you feel?”

Arya put her hands on his wrists and gave them a gentle squeeze before moving them to his biceps, comforting his worry. “Fine,” she answered.

Sandor looked her up and down as if examining her. “You sure? You’re not hungry? We left you–”

But he stopped talking when he realized she already ate. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just overdid it a little yesterday.” She shrugged and she saw Sandor’s entire face fall.

He dropped his hands from her head and scowled at her. 

“O _verdid it_?” he exclaimed. “I’ve seen men do what you did yesterday and pass out falling off a wall to their deaths! You were just too dim-witted to listen to common sense.”

Arya could tell he was angry with her and he had every right to be. When she didn’t say anything to refute him he continued.

“Stupid fucking girl. You should consider yourself lucky that someone saw you. You could’ve been laying there for hours for anyone to come and attack and you would’ve been completely defenseless.”

He was gripping her shoulders tightly while he lectured her. She knew that what she did was reckless. She just didn’t want to feel sad anymore without Jon.

“You’re right,” she said with her voice still scratchy. “I shouldn’t have gone to shoot arrows after I left you.”

“You’re fucking right on that you stubborn bitch,” he snarled. He removed his hands from her shoulders and turned away from her, still sitting on the bed and glaring out the window.

She went to touch his arm and he slapped her hand away roughly. Her heart broke a little when he refused her touch like that. She didn’t know how to reassure him that she felt fine. She knew he was worried about her, that was plainly obvious. But she also knew that he was probably scared that she’d hurt herself. Had the roles been reversed she would’ve slapped him across the face and refused to talk to him.

Arya stood up on her knees behind him and cautiously wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders from behind. When he didn’t move to shove her off she placed her chin on his shoulder and closed her eyes. He was as still and as rigid as a block of ice.

He was right; she was a stubborn and stupid bitch yesterday. She also knew the way she spoke so uncaringly to him was wrong. She treated him like everyone else did when she spoke like that. She felt rotten. But she was just as bad at apologies as he was about telling her his feelings.

“I also shouldn’t have been so cold to you when I said I wanted to be alone,” she whispered into the crook of his neck, kissing him in an attempt to soothe his worries.

Sandor sighed through his nose heavily and she felt his giant hand come overtop hers. He was still as unmoving as stone, but he was touching her willingly now and she thought that was a good sign so she continued.

“I just… it was…” she huffed out frustratingly. She didn’t know how to say this properly. “Fighting helped me… forget that… he was gone,” she stuttered. She had no idea if this was at all coming out right but she waited for his response. When he squeezed her fingers she finally said what she knew he would hate to admit out loud.

“And I’m sorry I scared you,” she breathed.

When he finally spoke it was barely a mummer. “I told you before that you don’t have to be afraid of telling me anything.” She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck and waited for him to continue.

“You do what you need to do. Just don’t be so dense about it next time,” he mumbled.

Arya nodded into his neck before he sighed and reached around and pulled her into his lap. Her arms wound around his neck and his wrapped around her waist. She nuzzled and placed gentle kisses on the thick hair that covered his neck. She squeezed his neck tightly, happy that he was no longer cross with her.

He moved his hands to either side of her face and pressed his forehead against her own and looked deep into her eyes.

“You do that shite again and I’ll lock you in the fucking stables,” he threatened. He was gripping her head almost too tightly.

Arya bit her lip and nodded seriously because she believed him.

He didn’t loosen his grasp when he kissed her painfully hard on the mouth. When he pulled back and dropped his hands to her waist Arya moved with him and placed several gentler kisses on his cheeks. She heard him sighed and swallow loudly before his hand rubbed up and down her back.

Arya looked around the room in confusion. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Your sister’s room,” Sandor said after yawning. “Podrick Payne found you and Breanne carried you to Sansa.”

Arya sighed and looked around the room again. It was full of frilly things and it smelt of flowers. Arya hated this room.

She then suddenly remembered something Sansa had told her. Something Sansa had heard from some of the stable boys from years ago when Podrick was under Tyrion Lannister’s small umbrella of power. Arya had also overheard some of the men in Winterfell talking about it too.

She clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds of her laughter.

The corner of Sandor’s mouth tipped up and he gave her a questioning look. She just shook her head and moved to get off his lap, but he tightened his hold on her waist.

“What’s funny?” he asked, clearly confused.

Arya shook her head again. “Nothing, just something silly I heard about Pocrick. It’s juvenile, doesn’t matter.”

Sandor raised an eyebrow at her and it was clear he had no idea what she was talking about.

She sighed and leaned in and whispered what she heard about the young lad. How he was apparently so well in downed and so skilled in bed that the whores of Westeross wouldn’t accept payment from him. She told him how he was apparently so good that he made one of the whores pass out from pleasure.

When she pulled away from his ear and looked at his face she burst out into a fit of laughter.

His mouth was hanging open and his brow was furrowed.

“You can’t be serious,” he said. “The little shit that follows Breanne of fucking Tarth around?”

Arya nodded with both hands covering her mouth. She couldn’t stop giggling at the look on his face.

“He can’t even wield a sword properly,” Sandor muttered with a puzzled look.

Arya wiped the tears from her eyes as she came down from her fit of laughter. “Wielding a sword has nothing to do with the size of his cock or how good he is in bed, Sandor,” she said.

Sandor snorted and looked off into the distance like he was trying to solve a puzzle of some kind. Suddenly his head snapped back to Arya’s face.

“Why in Seven Hells did you think of that when I said he was the one that found you?” he asked.

Arya laughed once before answering. “Because now I bet there will be rumors going around that Arya Stark was unconscious because Podrick Payne had his way with her,” she said with her eyes shut and wrinkled her nose in abhorrence.

Sandor chuckled and looked her over once, “Well she is after all is barbaric enough to lay with the likes of the boorish Hound.”

She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck tighter to give him a lazy kiss. “I like boorish,” she murmured into his ear.

She began covering his face in kisses. First his forehead, then his eye lids, over his cheeks and down his jaw.

“Can we go back to our room?” she asked after she finished covering neck with loving kisses. “It’s too frilly in here and the sun is going to shine right on our faces in the morning.”

Sandor nodded and put one arm behind her back and the other under her legs to cradle her against his chest and stood.

“Put me down!” she squawked. “I can walk on my bloody own,” she said squirming in his grasp trying to get free.

He just squeezed her tighter with his arms as hard as steel.

“Calm yourself, woman. I am carrying you there whether you like it or not,” he growled. “So quit being a stubborn bitch for once in your life.”

She sighed and felt comfort in his warm arms and the swaying as he walked. She was already sound asleep by the time they made it back to their chambers.


	35. Sandor

Sandor insisted Arya stay in bed for the morning as they were to sail west soon. He refused to even let her leave to get food or drink. He was certain she needed a day of rest before they left. So he left her in their chambers to arrange last minute details of the voyage as well as get her breakfast in the morning.

He even attended two meetings with the new King Bran and the journey council to give his input for the preparations. Even though he loathed the process to his very core, his assurance that Arya was healthy overrode that ten fold.

After he finished with the meetings he left to the food hall and waited in line to collect breakfast before going back to his woman. Behind him he heard a couple of the northerners whispering his name and snickering.

He was planning on ignoring it until one of the men poked him on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned and saw the group of men all trying to hold in their giggles like little girls who were keeping a secret. The one that poked him was one he recognized as he was hired as a part of the new Kings Guard.

“I hear you are Second Captain on Lady Arya’s ship,” he said.

Sandor responded with a noncommittal nod.

“Is that for payment for making the little Lady howl like she did the other night?” he asked making the other men laugh.

Sandor snorted and turned around. He was not about to let these men make him lose his temper right now. Not when he was so close to leaving them all behind never to be seen again.

“Had I known it was so easy to get that little savage’s legs open I would’ve fucked her after the squire had his go at her. Surely she must be broken in by now considering she throws her cunt around more than the women in Little Finger’s establishment,” he said loud enough for Sandor to hear.

Sandor’s fists clenched as he whipped around and grabbed the man by his throat and brought him close to his face. He squeezed his hand as tight as he could and watched the man’s face turn red as he pathetically tried to release his grip.

He liked killing little shits that thought they were tough.

“You should mind your tongue, _boy_.” Sandor growled while lifting him up off his feet. “You are sworn to that _little savages’_ brother, who happens to be the King. You should pay her with the same respect as you would for him,” he growled.

He then slowly brought the man closer to his face and leaned into his ear. “And aye, it is payment for making her howl, and so far I have been the only one able to get her to scream,” he said lowly. “That little savage only likes to fuck rabid dogs. She is mine and I don’t like to share my pets.”

The man was turning purple now and his flailing was getting slower so Sandor dropped him and knelt down only to give three hard blows to his face.

When Sandor looked down the man was unconscious with blood dripping down from his nose and mouth. His body was crumpled up like a ragdoll at Sandor’s feet.  

He looked to the other men and said, “If any of the rest of you have a problem with the way Lady Arya does her business I suggest you speak now.”

When all of them just stared at him in fear Sandor turned and cut the rest of the line to pile food onto two plates.

“That was hardly necessary,” he heard the Little Bird behind him.

“Those so called men were saying things about where your sister sleeps,” he said turning around with two full plates of food in his hands. “Those same men are to be guarding your brother.”

Sansa looked over at the group of men who were lifting their friend up off the floor and dragging him to a nearby table.

“He was supposed to be one of our best fighters,” she sighed looking over at the unconscious man.

Sandor snorted and began walking around her to get back to his chambers. “If that is your best fighter than you need new fighters,” he grunted.

Sansa ran to catch up to him and walk next to him.

“Where is Arya now?” she inquired.

“Told her to stay in bed. She needs rest.”

“I agree, but how did you get _her_ to agree to that?” she asked looking impressed.

Sandor chuckled and his mind went back to his conversation with the wolf-bitch. He promised that if she stayed in bed he would bring her food. When that didn’t work he told her he wouldn’t fuck her for a month. It was an empty threat; he knew he would never be able to hold out a week much less a month. But he needed her healthy. With arms crossed she agreed begrudgingly, but also demanded that he better still bring her food and get her a bath as along with it. When he went to kiss her goodbye she turned her head away from him so he could only catch her cheek. He laughed at her immaturity but appreciated that she was finally listening to him.

 “Told her I would bring her food,” he said lied easily. The last thing he wanted to tell Arya’s sister that he bribed her with fucking.

Sansa snorted delicately and grabbed his arm forcing him to stop.

“You will be sure that she doesn’t leave without saying goodbye, wont you?” she pleaded.

Sandor nodded and didn’t look at her.

“And you will make her visit us, right?” she asked. When he saw her eyes he could tell she was heartbroken to see Arya leave.

“Aye, I will.” he said seriously. He would never take Arya away from her family like a Lord she would’ve been promised to before the Seven Kingdoms went to shit. He would never be like that faceless man. He made a vow of that to himself long ago.

Sansa nodded her thanks and left him to walk to his chambers alone.

When he got inside he was actually shocked to find her sleeping. She was still wearing one of his sarks (something that Sandor learned he found extremely attractive) and was hugging a pillow on Sandor’s side of the bed. He noticed her arm and leg were draped over it just like she normally would wrap her body around Sandor at night. He couldn’t help but feel warmed by that. She was using a pillow as a substitute when he was absent. He liked that very much.

He set the food down, removed his boots, and gently detached the pillow only to replace it with his body. He stayed sitting up with the back of his head resting against the headboard and Arya’s cheek lying against his thigh. Her arm curled around his waist and she hummed in her sleep contently. He tenderly smoothed her hair away from her face and started petting her soft tresses. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. Honestly, he could stay that way forever. But when he saw the sun moving to the west he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to her ear.

“Arya,” he whispered. “If you don’t get up now you’ll be up all night.”

Arya groaned and curled up into a ball. When she still didn’t move he put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake.

Her hand shot up and shoved his hand away from her roughly.

“Fuck off,” she growled into his lap.

Sandor laughed and shook her a little bit more roughly prompting another groan from her.

“You’re the one that told me to rest,” she grumbled pushing off his lap and moving to sit next to him and sag against his side.

Sandor looked down at her and wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the top of her head.

“Aye, but I don’t want you being a bitch tomorrow,” he said rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

Arya harrumphed and closed her eyes against his side.

“Hey,” he said shaking her gently again. “Don’t fall asleep again,” he said.

Arya groaned and smacked him on the chest before sitting up completely.

“Grumpy bitch,” he grunted.

She stretched her arms above her head and ran her fingers through her hair to get it out of her face. When stray hairs continued to fall into her eyes she grabbed the bindings from her wrist and began to collect her hair into her regular topknot.

Sandor’s hand shot out to her wrist and pulled her hand away from her head. “Leave it down,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed of his request.

Arya gave him a confused look but suddenly whipped her head to the plate of food on the table. She quickly took it into her lap and began eating at a speed that impressed Sandor. It was clear she was starving so Sandor didn’t touch his food. When she finished he handed her his plate and she looked up at him.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked with her mouth full.

Sandor rolled his eyes and placed the plate on her lap. “Just eat, girl,” he said.

He let his rest on the top of her head and gently massaged her scalp with his fingers as she ate. When she finished that plate as well she reached for the water and he put the plate back on the nightstand.

“You ate about as much as that giant,” he said trying not to laugh.

She moved to punch him in the arm but he caught her tiny fist and brought it to his lips.

“You’re getting predictable, girl,” he said with a grin at her.

Arya childishly stuck her tongue out at him before resting her head on his shoulder again.

They were quiet for a short while before she cocked her head and took one of his hands and lifted it for her inspection. It was the same hand he used to punch that loud northern fucker. He felt her tiny fingers brush over the bloodied knuckles gently so not to cause him more pain. Her touch actually felt nice to the sore lesions.

“These are fresh wounds,” she said raising his big hand to her mouth for a soft kiss. “Who’d you hit?” she asked looking up at him with her big grey eyes.

Sandor let his head fall back against the headboard and closed his eyes tiredly. “Some of the northerners are talkers,” he grumbled.

“What did they say?” she asked still holding his hand.

He opened his eyes and gave her a sideways glance before smirking at her. “They were saying that I must’ve fucked you good and hard to be howling so loud they could hear it in their chambers,” he said watching in amusement as her face dropped and her ears turn red. He turned so he could face her completely. “They were saying that I fucked you so good that you made me Second Captain so I could satisfy your appetite.” Sandor took his hand away from her and folded his arms across his chest turning away from her to say the next bit.

“They also said you were a whore so I punched him in his cunt face to shut him up.”

When Arya stayed quiet he opened his eyes to look at her.

She was smiling from ear to ear at him.

He raised a brow at her in question and she sat up and climbed into his lap straddling him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. He let his hands rest on her thighs.

She was still grinning at him like an idiot and he gave her an annoyed look in question.

When she finally spoke her tone was full of a teasing sort. “My fair knight is concerned about his Lady’s honor.”

Sandor grunted and rolled his eyes at her. She looked like she was trying to hold back her giggles.

“And he got so angry he struck the man from the very spot he stood just so Lady Arya’s honorable name wouldn’t be dragged through the mud. What a noble knight the kind ser is,” she said in a singsong voice.

Sandor glared at her and squeezed his hands on her thighs tightly in warning.

“Watch your tone, girl. I’m still willing to box your ears if you keep up that shite,” he glowered.

She laughed and gave him another kiss while squeezing his shoulders.

Sandor groaned in satisfaction at the pressure her tiny fingers were inflicting into his back. Arya jumped back from the kiss, surprised by the sound.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked in concern.

Sandor laughed once at the absurdity of this tiny woman inflicting any type of unintentional pain on a man the size of him. “No, girl. My back is full of knots and you pressed on one. Felt good,” he said grabbing her wrists and wrapping them back around his neck.

Arya gave him a look of knowing. “It’s probably because you slept in that chair last night.”

Sandor shrugged and was disappointed when she climbed off of him.

“Take off your shirt and lay on your belly,” she instructed.

Sandor raised a brow at her in question.

Arya rolled her eyes at him and gave him a shove. “Come on, lay down. I’ll rub the knots out of your back,” she said getting up on her knees.

Sandor unlaced his tunic and shucked it off with his sark onto the floor. He snatched a pillow and lay down on his stomach with the pillow under his cheek. Sandor felt the weight of Arya’s body as she limbed onto his lower back and leaned back on her knees. His mind drifted to all the times he felt the weight of her body swaying as she rode him during their nights of passion. He idly wished he were laying the other way with fewer clothes.

He felt her tiny hands begin work over his lower back and his eyes actually rolled into the back of his head. She worked the same place vigorously and when she was satisfied that spot was well attended, she moved upwards.

“ _Fuck,_ that feels _good_ ,” Sandor groaned while being muffled by the pillow.

“You should’ve told me your back was sore earlier,” she scolded.

Sandor only groaned in response as she began kneading the muscles by his ribs. She worked in that area the most as it contained the most knots. She continued silently on for almost an hour before she reached his shoulders.

“Harder,” he said when she found a particularly large knot. When she complied he groaned again causing Arya to laugh.

“You’re making the same sounds you do when I suck your cock,” she said with a laugh.

“Feels almost as good. Press down harder, girl,” he mumbled. He grunted when he felt her elbow dig into his left shoulder blade. “Yes, just like that.”

 She continued until Sandor could feel her touches getting weaker. He could tell she was getting tired so he rolled onto his back. He sat up and took her face between his hands and kissed her hard on the mouth.

When they separated she kept her arms loosely around his neck and used her hands to move his hair away from his face.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

Arya gave him a chaste kiss before climbing off his lap. “Consider it a reward for defending my honor,” she teased.

He sat back against the headboard again and saw her grab a book she had been reading off the nightstand. He placed a hand on her thigh and slowly started to push the material of his sark up her thigh to reach between her legs.

Arya slapped his hand away and glared at him.

“You still owe me a bath, dog.”

Sandor sighed and got up to find some servant to ready a bath for his woman. Maybe then she would let him fuck her.


	36. Arya

Arya had fallen back asleep when he left to fetch a servant to draw a bath for her. She woke to Sandor jostling her awake gruffly with his big hand on her shoulder. When she looked up at him he jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the other room.

“Bath’s ready,” he said before turning around to the washing basin and began scrubbing his face.

Arya got up and stretched her arms over her head. She heard her bones creek from the long day of lounging around all day. She wasn’t used to doing nothing with her body for an entire day. She walked passed Sandor and saw he was trimming his beard.

She was actually warmed by the domesticity of the day. Eating together in bed, rubbing his back, just lazing around and chatting, it all just seemed… right. Like this was who she was supposed to be.

She quickly removed the overlarge shirt and slipped into the hot water. The servant had put mint and rosemary oil in the bath making the smell permeate the air. She almost groaned at the feeling before she began washing her body. She grabbed the wooden bucket next to the tub and rinsed the soap out of her hair. When she was done she leaned against the back of the tub and closed her eyes letting the hot water relax her muscles. When she had the feeling that someone was watching her she turned her head and saw Sandor leaning against the doorframe leading to the washing room. His beard was much shorter to his skin making him look younger and more vibrant. He had also cut his hair so it stopped just before his shoulders. He looked less like a bear and more like a man now.

 _A very attractive man_ , Arya thought biting her lip.

They both were looking at each other while smirking for about five heartbeats before Arya inclined her head for him to come and join her.

Sandor pushed off the wall and began taking off his clothes. When he was finally naked Arya curled into a ball at the foot of the tub and he climbed in behind her so she could settle between his legs.

The tub was far too small for a man the size of Sandor so Arya’s back was pushed tightly against his chest and she felt his cock being pressed against her side. She could feel already that he was half-hard and smirked silently.

Sandor’s arms wrapped around her stomach and chest and he could feel him sigh as he leaned against the back of the tub and she against his chest.

They stayed that was for a while before Sandor’s hands moved and began massaging her shoulders.

“Mmm….” Arya said. “That feels good.”

“Perhaps it was me that should’ve rubbed your back,” he said.

Arya gripped one of his hands and brought his palm to her mouth for a long kiss. “You’ve barely had any sleep,” she mumbled against his hand. “You needed the rest just as much as I did.”

Sandor’s arms slithered around her ribs and he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Oh what’s that I hear? The stubborn bitch is actually saying I was right?” he asked.

Arya elbowed him in the ribs lightly. “You are such a shit”

“And you’re a nasty bitch,” he quipped before kissing her ear.

Arya removed his arms from around her waist and turned his lap so she was straddling him. She was also well aware that his cock was being pressed against her inner thigh and was growing harder and harder by the minute.

She wrapped her dripping arms around his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips. She felt her breasts press against his hairy chest and his big hands went to her back. She noticed that his beard was less scratchy now that it was so short. When she pulled back she ran her fingers through his hair and liked how short that was as well.

Arya caressed his cheek while his wet hands ran up and down her back. She loved that he knew she enjoyed that.

“You look handsome,” she said before leaning in to run kisses from his neck to his ear.

She felt Sandor grunt in disapproval.

“Then you need to get your eyes checked, girl.”

She shook her head before began nibbling on his neck making Sandor tilt his head to the side to give her more access. She also felt his hands slide down her back, over her bottom, and to her thighs to lift her up on her knees. He kept lifting her until her breasts was directly in front of his mouth so he could kiss and suck at them.

Arya wrapped her arms loosely around his neck as he fondled her. She loved how slow they were moving, neither in any rush as they knew they had all night to touch each other.

She ran her fingers through his hair and moaned when she felt his teeth graze her nipple.

He looked up at her from his teasing. “You like biting more than any other woman I’ve bedded,” he observed.

Arya glared down at him before she answered. “Don’t ever talk about other women you’ve bedded when we’re naked together,” she said in a dangerous tone.

Sandor grinned up at her, “I like it when you’re jealous.” He began rolling his tongue over her nipple lazily before gently biting the side of breast. 

 “I am not jealous of a whore,” Arya scoffed at him as he kissed up the space between her breasts. Sandor continued to kiss up her chest and lowered her back down so he could access her lips.

“Regardless,” he said against her neck. “I don’t think I would able to have whore’s anymore. Not when I’ve tasted something as sweet as you.”

Arya’s heart was pounding in her chest as she felt his beard scratch against her neck.

He continued speaking as he made his way up her jaw. “I’ve never been hornier than when I see you flay a man with a sword the size of a toothpick,” he purred. “I’ve also never seen anything more gorgeous wearing nothing but my sark,” he whispered before he gave her a soft kiss. 

Arya moaned against his mouth when his hands found her ass and squeezed hard. She felt his cock was pretty much fully hard by now and it was pressing against her belly. Arya ground her hips against him and when she heard him groan she did it again and again.

“Arya,” he whispered. He let his hand reach in between them and slipped one finger inside of her.

Arya bit him hard on the neck. She noticed earlier that some of the marks she left on him were fading and she did not like that. She wanted every whore in Westeross to know that he belonged to her.

Sandor seemed to agree because he bit the spot right under her ear making her gasp in pleasure. She moaned his name at the combination of his teeth and his finger. He was panting like a dog and his fingers were squeezing her too tight but at the same time not tight enough. Water was spilling from the tub onto the floor, but neither cared as they were too caught up in the bouts of pleasure they were inflicting on each other. She couldn’t stop grinding and rolling her hips against his finger and he finally grabbed her by her face and yanked her back.

“Bed,” he breathed with hooded eyes. “ _Now_. Otherwise we’re both going to be sore from me fucking the shit out of you in this tub.”

Arya swallowed and licked her lips at the sentiment and she stood, dislodging his fingers from inside her. Sandor got up as well and grabbed her hand and towed her to the bed. Arya had to practically jog in order to keep up with his long strides.

He stopped abruptly and pushed her onto the bed and he climbed on top of her.

“You fucking want it?” he breathed into her ear. She could feel his thick cock against her inner thigh and she reached down to stroke it.

Arya swallowed and tried to find words, but all she could feel was the tip of his hard cock teasing her folds.

He rolled off of her and pushed her onto her side so that her back was pressed to his chest. At first she though he was denying her but then she felt his arm wrap under her knee, hooking it with his elbow so he could wrench her leg up in the air. Her legs were spread so far apart, almost painfully, but she liked it.

They both propped themselves up by their elbows to get the right angle although he still had to bend significantly to be able to kiss her. She felt his cock slide between her folds again and she reached behind her and gripped his neck. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to her temple.

“I’m going to fuck your brains out,” he rumbled into her ear.

Arya moaned and turned her head to give him a desperate kiss, pulled his head as close as humanly possible. She never heard anything so vulgar yet so erotic come out of his mouth. She was not against talking in bed; he just rarely did it. It made her arousal increase at a speed she didn’t know possible.

She bit down hard on his bottom lip and pulled. He grunted and she tasted blood in her mouth. It was one of the most arousing things she had ever experienced.

She cried out his name when he suddenly slammed into her with the force of a bull. Unlike previous times when he would take it easy with her, this time he began ramming into her vehemently. This new position Sandor was fucking her in had Arya moaning uncontrollably. At this angle he somehow managed to get inside her deeper than she ever felt and loved every minute of it.

“Fuck, Sandor,” she moaned. She turned her head and he swooped down to kiss her roughly. His tongue pushed into her mouth sloppily and after a few minutes she had to break the kiss so she could breath. She could no longer support herself on her elbow so she dropped her head to the mattress, her moans muffled by the sheets.

Sandor leaned down and bit her hard on her neck making her grip the sheets tightly. She couldn’t think of anything except how hard he was fucking her. This was nothing like previous times they fucked. This was feral and desperate, like she truly was a wolf that hadn’t seen her mate in months. She couldn’t even see straight.

She turned her head and grabbed his hand that lay by her head. She twisted his arm so his fingers were turned towards the sky and she began sucking on his fingers aggressively. She heard Sandor groan and then he extraordinarily picked up his pace.

 _How much faster and harder can he possibly go?_ Arya thought.

She released his fingers from her mouth to cry out his name again with her eyes rolling to the back of her head. She began to feel the first wave of her climax coming as he continued to smash into her body.

“You gonna come for me, wolf-bitch?” Sandor asked biting at her shoulder and yanking her leg even higher up.

When Arya didn’t answer he bit her even harder before he growled in her ear. “I _said_ , you gonna come for me?”

“Yes,” she whimpered. “I’m going to come.”

“And will you ever come for anyone else?” he asked against her shoulder.

Arya turned her head and looked at him dead in the eye. She was so close and she was already feeling her walls beginning to clench around his cock.

“I only come for you,” she sobbed.

And then Arya felt the wave crash over her. She cried out and began writhing against him, her body taking on a mind of it’s own. Her nerves felt like they were on fire as he continued to fuck her senseless. She thought she was going to suffocate in the pleasure he was inflicting on her.

“Fucking shit, Arya,” he choked out against her neck.

Arya was panting like an animal and her hand reached behind her to his shoulder and she raked her nails down his skin as hard as she could. She heard him roar out her name and then felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside of her. He was violently slamming into her now while he rode out the end of his orgasm.

He collapsed all together after he emptied his seed inside her. He dropped her leg and his arm fell to her ribs, almost painfully. His cheek rested on her sweaty temple with his rapid hot breath touching her face. They were both panting loudly and covered in a thick sheen of sweat. She could still feel his twitching cock inside her.

“Seven hells,” he breathed against face. “You keep making those sounds and you may never get a moments rest when we sail west. Makes me want to fuck you all over again just _thinking_ about it.”

Arya could only nod as she was still out of breath to actually say or think of anything to say.

Sandor finally untangled himself from her body. She mewled and he groaned when he pulled himself out of her cunt. He rolled onto his back and pulled her into his arms while they both tried to catch their breath.

“That… was… really… good…” Arya said between gasps. “You… should fuck me… like that… more often.”

Sandor’s breathing was slowing down before Arya’s so he could speak without as much difficulty. “Haven’t fucked you in so long,” he said leaning down to burry his nose in her mussed up hair. “Need to keep my wolf-bitch happy before she goes sniffing around for someone else to satisfy her needs.”

Arya snorted at the silly prospect. She couldn’t see herself with any man but him.

When she went to lift her leg to rest against his thigh she squeaked in pain and lowered it again more carefully. She felt this way usually after he was vigorous with his attentions. And of course when she lost her maidenhood.  

“Sore?” he asked rubbing her back.

Arya looked up at him from his chest. He looked worried and she lifted her hand to caress his cheek with her knuckles. She didn’t want him to fear about hurting her in the future. She liked how rough he could be.

“I just haven’t had you in a while. That’s all,” she reassured him. She turned back to his chest to nuzzle his chest and run her fingers through his chest hair. “Just have to get used to it again.”

Sandor’s hand went to her chin to lift it up to meet his gaze. “You have to tell me if I’m being to rough with you,” he said earnestly. “You’re so small and I’m so big. I could seriously hurt you if I’m not careful.”

Arya wrapped her tiny fingers around his wrist and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “You would never hurt me,” she whispered confidently.

Sandor sighed and squeezed her jaw more tightly. “I mean it, Arya. I don’t need that on my conscious,” he whispered.

Arya squirmed up his body so she was lying on top of him with her forearms braced on either side of his head. She lay her forehead against his and looked at him deep into his big brown eyes.

“You are not Gregor, Sandor,” she whispered while caressing his cheek. “You love me and you would never let anything happen to me,” she nuzzled her face against his temple. “That’s who you are,” she mumbled softly. 

She heard Sandor swallow loudly before putting his hands on either side of her head and kissed her very sweetly. She wiggled down his body and laid her cheek against his chest to fall asleep safely in his arms.


	37. Sandor

Over the course of the next several days Arya and Sandor were busy preparing for their departure. It seemed that the meetings Sandor attended were not the final ones. Sandor was annoyed by this but was relieved when Arya said he didn’t have to go.

Sandor was waiting by the semi-ruined gates of Westeross in line to greet the soldiers of Dorne. It was discussed in one of the many meetings that the new leader of Dorne was intrigued by Arya’s voyage and sent sailors and sell-swords to accompany her. He sent even sent a raven telling the King of the new Six Kingdoms that he was thrilled to send Arya more men to sail to the unknown lands.

Sandor glanced to his left and saw the three Stark children standing (and sitting in Bran’s case) in front of the cave opening waiting as well. He never paid any mind before, but he noticed there were glaring differences between Arya and her sister. He always knew Arya was small, but standing next to her sister she looked the size of the Imp. Sansa resembled Catelyn Stark with her red hair whereas Arya was a spitting image of Eddard. She even wore her hair the same way.

Sandor knew Eddard to be a noble man; no doubt that’s where the children got it from. He was also a bleeding heart which made him stupid and that led to his demise. He thanked the Gods that Arya did not inherit that from him. He idly wondered what her father would say about their tumultuous relationship. Sandor snorted at the thought of him approving to be a suitable partner for his daughter. He would probably roll over in his grave if he saw Arya and Sandor together.

Sandor was ripped from his thoughts when the three small boats of about thirty men made it to shore. All the men were tanned and were wearing their gold and red colors of Dorne. Sandor always thought Dornnish men were drunken whoremongers who fought like women. He didn’t like that they would be on the same boat as Arya, but was quickly relived when he remembered they also enjoyed the accompaniment of men. Honestly, as long as they didn’t go anywhere near his woman he was happy.

He watched the haughty men saunter to kneel in front of the Stark children with one of the commanders eyeing Sansa up and down, clearly undressing her with his eyes.

He smirked at that. If that man only knew what she did to the last man that forced his way into her bed he would be shitting his pants.

Sandor looked back at the men exiting the other boats and line up in an orderly fashion.

 _When can I leave? This shit bores me_ , Sandor thought.

And then Sandor’s eyes bulged out of his head when he saw a fourth, much smaller boat arrive behind the Dornnish men. The men in that boat were wearing the colors of House Baratheon.

Sandor’s head whipped to where Arya was standing and to anyone else she would seem indifferent, but he could see her mouth turn down a few millimeters. She glanced sideways at Sandor and gave him a look that told him to stay where he was.

Sandor’s hands turned into fists at his side as he saw the blacksmith bastard step off the boat and walk towards Arya.

He stopped directly in front of Arya and bowed with his eyes never leaving her.

“My Lady,” Lord Gendry Baratheon said. “It is wonderful to see you and your family again.”

When Arya didn’t say anything Sansa spoke up. “I was unaware that House Baratheon was attending as well,” she said in her prim and proper voice. “However it is a pleasant surprise my Lord.” Sansa curtsied whereas Arya did not.

_Good._

“I was doing business in Dorne and thought I would lend a hand with the rebuilding of Kings Landing,” he said.

“You wanted to help rebuild an entire city with fifteen men?” Arya asked with her thick brow raised. She was clearly unimpressed that he showed up without warning and that made Sandor very happy. 

The young Lord looked nervously between the Starks before answering. “Well of course we also have business to attend to with the Queen of Winterfell and the new King,” he stuttered. 

Sansa glared at her sisters rude manners before answering the young Lord. “Well, for tonight we will let you rest from your long travels. Tomorrow we will discuss such matters. Let us show you your rooms,” Sansa said.

They began to walk towards the carriages and Sandor made a beeline to walk directly behind Arya. He knew Arya lost her maidenhood to him so he wanted to hear every word this little shit had to say in case he had to put him in line. Although he kept his guard of indifference up and so did she.

 “Arya, I understand it was you that killed the Queen,” Gendry said looking at her in a way that made Sandor want to smack his pale face.

“Aye,” Arya said curtly without elaborating.

The blacksmith fiddled with his coat. Sandor was particularly satisfied that he was clearly uncomfortable by her tone.

“A very brave deed, my Lady,” he complimented. “You are a true hero to the Seven Kingdoms.”

 Sandor couldn’t see his woman’s face but he knew she would hate that comment.

When she didn’t answer he continued to ask her questions about where she had been and what she had done since they last saw each other. It was clear that with her one worded answers she did not want to prattle on so the Lord stopped talking all together.

When they were walking through the training grounds Arya turned left when the rest turned right, and Sandor followed.

“My Lady-” Gendry began.

“-she will see you at supper, my Lord,” Sansa interrupted. “She has many things to attend to before she sails west.”

Sandor silently nodded his thanks to the older Stark and she nodded back with a slight smile. Arya must’ve told her that she lost her maidenhood to the winging little shit. She probably understood his anger and he was grateful for it.

He followed Arya until they reached the stables. When he saw a young stable boy with dirty long blonde hair it reminded him of the boy that was trying to bed Arya many months ago during their travels. 

“Fuck off!” Sandor boomed at the young lad. 

The boy turned and sprinted towards the door without another word. 

She turned to look at him and dropped her cold façade. She was biting her bottom lip and looked like she wanted to say something but she was coming up blank.

Sandor grunted and folded his arms across his chest. He regarded her for a moment before he asked the question that was burning in his mind since he first saw Gendry fucking Baratheon.

“You want to fuck him again?” he asked after staring at her for a few minutes.

Arya’s face fell and she looked furious. She shoved him with both her hands and only accomplished in pushing herself backwards.

“Of course not you stupid fucking moron,” she snapped. She turned her back to him and walked further away from him into the stables and Sandor just followed.

 _She’s not going to run away from this one_ , he thought.

“Well, he certainly wants to fuck you again,” he growled grabbing her by the shoulder and turning her around to face him.

Arya slapped his hand away and took a step backwards.

“You don’t know that,” she said angrily.

“I can see it with my own fucking eyes,” he snapped.

Arya threw her hands up in the air. “Even if he does, what do you want me to do about it?” she exclaimed.

Sandor huffed and re-folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t believe you let him put his dirty hands on you. It’s nauseating to think he was the first one you spread your legs for,” he spat.

Arya blinked and took another step back. Sandor immediately regretted the words but he was too angry that this boy ruined the small bubble of happiness they had finally achieved.

He saw her face morph from hurt to pure hatred in a matter of seconds. He saw her nostrils flare and her ears turn red as she stepped forward and slapped him across the face, _hard_.

His face stung and his ear were ringing from the blow. She was glaring at him in a way he never saw before. Like she truly wanted to hurt him.

When she went to hit him again, he let her. He deserved it and it was just as hard as the first.

She went to hit him again but he caught her by the wrist. When she tried with her other hand he grabbed that wrist as well.

“Fuck you!” she spat at him. “I was right the first time. You are the worst shit in the Seven Kingdoms. You’re nothing but an ugly dog and I am sick to even look at you.” 

Sandor glared at her but held onto her wrists as she squirmed and tried to fight him away. When he blocked her attempt to knee him in the crotch he wrapped his arms around her, securing her arms to her side. She tried fighting him further but he just held on until she stopped moving.

When she did she finally stilled in his arms she was panting from the excursion and refused to look at him.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbled softly looking down at her. He still didn’t move his arms from around her. He knew she would just attack again if he did.

“Release me,” she hissed.

“Not until you stop trying to hit me,” he said calmly.

“I wouldn’t waste my effort on a shit like you,” she snapped.

They were pressed so close to each other he could feel her heart beating erratically against his chest. When she still didn’t move he loosened his arms only a little so he could lean back and look at her face. She turned her head so he couldn’t see and Sandor sighed.

“Arya,” he murmured. “Arya, look at me.”

“I will if you release me,” she said with a voice of steel.

Sandor weighed his options before speaking. “You promise to stop trying to claw out my eyes?” he asked.

“Yes! Just get your grubby fucking paws off me,” she hissed.

Sandor slowly loosened his arms and she put her hand on his sternum and shoved herself away from him roughly.

She finally looked up at him and he hated that she was wearing that cold face again. The one she used when talking to everyone but him. She hadn’t looked at him like that since she first climbed into his lap and told him she was his.

“I…” he came up blank. What the fuck was he supposed to say? That he loved her and was terrified that she was going to leave him for the younger, much more appropriate mate?

Arya snorted at him and looked at him up and down in disgust. “I never want your filthy fucking mouth near me again,” she snapped coldly. “You can find some new bitch to mount since you are just as big of a ogre as everyone told me.”

Sandor swallowed his instinct to call her a brat. He saw she was only lashing out in retaliation of what he said. She had every right to, but it still wounded him all the same. He decided that staying calm and keeping his temper in check was the only way to absolve the situation unfolding between them.

However when he saw her snort and walk around him to go to the door he was at a loss. He felt as though he was about to lose the very thing that kept him whole over the past year.


	38. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the length!! I just wanted this whole scene in one go. 
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for all the comments and Kudos guys!

Arya was halfway to the stable doors when she heard Sandor speak.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” he mumbled quietly.

Arya stopped in her tracks. The words sounded foreign coming from his lips. She wasn’t used to seeing Sandor’s gentler side and it was slightly unnerving but also somewhat sweet, even if he was being a horse’s ass.

She didn’t mean the hateful things she said to him moments ago. She felt bad she said them already. But she was still angry with him for thinking he could just lash out and then suddenly be forgiven as if it never happened.

She turned and saw his arms were folded across his chest defensively and he was looking anywhere but her own two eyes. When he didn’t elaborate she huffed and also folded her arms across her chest.

She didn’t know how to react to an apology. She so rarely ever got them. She was also angry that he was waiting for _her_ to say something. He was the one that should be doing the talking, not her.

“We done?” she snapped heatedly.

Sandor ran his hand through his hair in frustration. It was clear he had no idea how to deal with a woman scorned. She knew things like this were totally out of his element. He know’s how to swing an axe into a man’s head, but was completely at a loss when it came to women’s feelings.

 _He has no idea what I can do in retaliation if doesn’t fix this_ , she thought furiously

“No, we’re _not_ fucking _done_ ,” he growled lowly.

“Then what do you want from me?” she bit back.

A look of disgust came across his face before he started muttering under his breath and took a few steps closer to her. He looked at her deeply before answering.

“I just… I don’t want you to... leave,” he mumbled finally looking at the ground.

“I told you weeks ago that I was going west,” she said obviously confused by his meaning.

He grit his teeth and glared at her. It was like he was angry with her for making him speak.

“No, I mean I don’t want you leave… me,” he said even more quietly.

Arya sighed and stared at him. She knew he hated showing his vulnerable side and she didn’t blame him. She hated showing it as well. She also knew she couldn’t stay mad at him when he was clearly trying his hardest to get her to understand why he was so angry.

Arya swore under her breath and threw her hands up in exasperation. She walked the final three paces to stand directly in front of him. He flinched away from her when she reached her hand to grip his jaw. Part of her was quite thrilled she could still scares such a big man but she kept her hand on his chin firmly, she even let her nails dig into his skin a little.

She glared at him for three heartbeats before speaking.

“I’m not leaving you, you _moron_ ,” she said. “Did you actually think that just because Gendry came back to see me that I would just up and run to bed with him? How would that make sense? You thought I would be making all these plans to go west just to give it all up because of a boy I knew when I was a child?”

Sandor clenched his jaw beneath her fingertips.

“You lost your maidenhood to him,” he grumbled.

Arya rolled her eyes and removed her hand from his jaw but didn’t step back from the spot she stood right in front of him.

“Have you done dense in the last few months? Do you honestly think most girls end up with the man they lose their maidenhood to?” she asked looking at him with a slight smirk on her face.

Arya saw his shoulders visibly relax. She waited as he hesitantly took another step towards her and cautiously placed his hands on her hips. When she didn’t try to hit him again he pressed his forehead against her own. Her hands moved to rest on his chest and began rubbing it like she always did when he was wound up about something.

“I was worried you were going to slap me again if I touched you,” he said with a smirk.

Arya rolled her eyes at him. “You _should_ be slapped again for being such an idiot,” she snapped.

“Aye,” he agreed.

“And I don’t think you’re an ugly dog and I don’t think you’re an ogre,” she sighed as she moved her forehead away from his to look into his brown eyes.

Her eyes were shinning with unshed tears that clearly threatened to escape during their spat. She saw a look of remorse across his face and he gripped her hips tighter. She could tell just by the look on his face that he was sorry and that was good enough for her.

He moved his hands from her hips to her cheeks and leaned in to kiss her slow. When they broke she wrapped her arms around his ribs and laid her cheek on his chest. He slid one arm around her waist and placed a hand on the back of her head, holding her tighter to him than she ever felt. They stayed like that for a while before he pulled away with a kiss to the top of her head. He held her by the shoulders at an arms length away.

“If that little shit tries anything before we leave I want you to tell me,” he said. When she was about to protest he held his hand up to stop her. “Even if you deal with it on your own, which I’m sure you will, I still want to know.”

Arya rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement. She grabbed him by his hand and began towing him to the stable door.

“You can makeup for being an asshole by waiting in the line for food for me,” she said adamantly.

Sandor begrudgingly agreed.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Arya was sitting at the same table she and Sandor always sat at while he waited in line for her for food. After their tiff she was glad that she made him wait in line. She didn’t feel like hearing the Dornnish men talk. It seemed like all they cared about was fucking and she didn’t want to hear the disgusting things they did with woman and men.

She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the wall. She was actually happy that she and Sandor had the fight. It cleared the air. She thought it was sweet that he was scared she would run off. Seeing him actually try to tell her his feelings at least once was reassurance that he truly did love her, even if she didn’t need it.

Her blind Braavosian training made her ears more tuned in to her surroundings, so she heard Sansa’s delicate footsteps coming towards her table.

Arya opened her eyes and saw Sansa looking at her in disapproval.

“Can you at least pretend that you are royalty and sit with us at the high table?” she asked motioning to the long table where the commander of the Dornish men and Gendry sat.

“Is that a serious question?” Arya asked.

Sansa sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Please?” she asked.

Arya raised her eyebrows in defiance before she answered.

“Can Sandor come?”

Sansa huffed and let her hands drop.

“That’s what I thought,” Arya said closing her eyes again.

“Make sure you keep him in line while Gendry is here,” Sansa said quietly. “The last thing we need is the Lord of Storms End our enemy because you can’t keep a dog on a leash.”

Arya pushed away from the wall and looked over to Sandor. He was trying to balance two plates and two flagons of wine simultaneously. She grinned and thought he looked ridiculous. She sighed; she knew she would have to prepare for his drunkenness tonight. He always got pissed every time they had a fight or someone looked at her in a way he hated. It was just in his nature.

“I’ll speak to him,” Arya said just as quietly.

Sansa gave her sister a knowing look before she spoke again. “I didn’t see it before…” Sansa said. “But I think you two are a good match. You keep each other in check.”

Arya’s eyebrows rose at that comment. That would be the last thing she would expect from her sister.

“He keeps you from running away from us and he promised that he would make you visit,” she explained. “He is a good man, despite his more insufferable qualities.”

Arya swallowed thickly before she could answer. It was the second time today she felt like she may cry.

 _Seven Hells, when did I become such a girl?_ Arya thought.

“Thank you, Sansa.”

Sansa nodded with a smile and turned back to the high table. Arya watched in astonishment when she passed Sandor that she said something to him that made him laugh. Sansa smiled at him and squeezed his arm.

Arya’s mouth actually fell open when she saw that.

Moments later he sat down and slid the plate of food over to her with a glass of wine. He began eating with Arya staring at him still in astonishment.

“What?” he asked with his mouthful.

Arya just laughed once and shook her head. She wanted to kiss him but thought better of it since there were so many royal families here.

 _…Then again_ … Arya thought.

If these Dornnish men were going to come with her on this journey she supposed they should know about whom she belonged to. She also wanted to make sure that Gendry was clear on whose bed she would be occupying for the foreseeable future.

She gazed up at him grinning mischievously for a long time before he noticed.

“What the fuck you are you thinking, girl?” he said glaring at her questioningly. 

She put her hand on his bicep and tugged at him to get closer to her. When he didn’t move she moved lifted her hands to begin sliding up his arm and chest.

Sandor jumped back and his head whipped around the room to see if anyone was watching.

“Are you mad?” he hissed. “Your sister will string us up by our necks if those royal cunts see us.”

“Don’t you want to show the Dornnish men who I belong to?” she asked.

“Aye, they’ll find out soon enough when they see us in the same chambers,” he growled while trying to push her away from him.

“Don’t you want to show Gendry who I belong to?” she asked in the best purr she could muster. She only knew how to manipulate men with other women’s faces, never her own.

Sandor’s head turned to the Lord in question and saw that he was looking directly at him she heard him grunt.

“You are good, girl,” he said with a laugh turning back to her.

She beamed at him and shook his head with a smile. He gripped her jaw with one hand and the other squeezed her thigh. He looked at her deeply still with a smile in his eyes and leaned down to touch his lips to hers. She reached up his chest and wrapped her fingers around his neck to caress the hair at the back of his head.

This was not a normal kiss as he was being so gentle with her. She felt the blood rush to her face and her pulse pound in her neck. She sighed when his tongue gently probed her mouth open, which she agreed to eagerly. The kiss didn’t last as long as she wanted, but it still made her blush and smirk somewhat shyly. When he pulled away from her lips she gave him another surprise chaste kiss before he could leave her completely. For which earned her an eye roll from Sandor before turning back to his chicken wordlessly.

She smiled at him and rubbed his arm affectionately before looking at the high table. Sansa was trying to glare daggers at her but Arya could tell she was trying not to smile. She saw the Dornnish man just look intrigued. But Gendry was obviously completely shocked. He looked so dumbfounded that Arya had to bite back a laugh. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she did want him to stop trying to act all buddy buddy with her. She was taken after all.

“What’s the other reason you wanted to do that?” he asked, seeing through her completely.

“Hm? Oh, because you and my sister aren’t at each other’s throats anymore,” she answered while taking a big bite of chicken, pretending not to notice how observant he was.

Sandor snorted and looked at the high table and grinned. “Your blacksmith boy looks like he’s going to try and fight me.”

Arya shrugged and went back to eating, completely unconcerned.

She felt Sandor place his warm hand on her back and began rubbing it in circles. Arya glanced up at him and saw he was pretending that this was nothing out of the ordinary. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to further goad Gendry into doing something so Sandor could fight him. She was a little irritated, but she had to admit his hand felt nice. Sandor knew she liked it when he did that too, the bastard. She ignored Gendry’s stares and leaned into his touch and sighed happily as she finished her food.

Arya peered up at the high table and saw Gendry looking intently at Sandor, as if he was trying to decide his next move in a chess game.

 _I fucking hate these stupid games_ , Arya thought.

She looked back at Sandor and clutched his arm.

“Bed?” she asked.

Sandor gave an affirmative grunt and stood. They almost made it out of the hall but right before the threshold a young squire was suddenly blocking their path.

“The great Lord Barathean requests for my Lady’s accompaniment,” he said.

“I bet he does,” Sandor muttered.

Arya turned around to see Sansa and Gendry waving her over to sit next to him with friendly smiles. She sighed and looked up at Sandor. He was clearly irritated and she didn’t want to make him suffer through this. She knew trying to be civil was harder for him than it was for her.

“You go, I’ll be up in an hour,” she said softly.

Sandor shooed the squire away before he spoke.

“I don’t like it,” he said.

Arya put her hands on her hips. “Do you want to stay up and sit with them?” she challenged.

Sandor grunted and glared at the high table. “And why do you _have_ to go?” he asked irritably.

“Because otherwise he’ll try and corner me somewhere later on. I might as well get it over with now,” she muttered.

Sandor sighed heavily and shifted his glare to her. He clutched her jaw in his massive hand so to reiterate his words more seriously. “He touches you I kill him, understand?”

Arya nodded and was relived when he swooped down and gave her a deep kiss before he turned and left wordlessly.

Arya groaned inwardly as she made her way back to the high table. She was tired and drowsy and didn’t want to speak to anyone right now. She especially didn’t want to have to talk to her former lover, if one could even call him that. No doubt he would want to talk about feelings and what happened between them back in Winterfell. She thanked the Gods Sansa was there so she could postpone such topics as long as possible.

When she sat down Gendry enthusiastically poured her a cup of wine and smiled happily at her.

“I’m glad you could spare a moment, my Lady,” said Gendry. “I know you must be exhausted from all the preparations you have been making.”

Arya simply nodded and took a long sip of wine. She was not about to give him more ammunition to speak to her.

When Arya finished her third cup of wine he stopped talking all together. The three sat in silence for a considerable long amount of time while the men began to filter out of the great hall.

Arya shot Sansa a filthy look when she heard her stand and excuse herself for the night while Gendry continued to prattle on.

“I think it time I be leaving you as well, Gendry,” Arya said a few moments after Sansa had left.

Gendry stopped in mid sentence as she has interrupted a long story about a helmet he was making.

When she went to stand Gendry shot up out of his seat like a cannon ball and moved to push her chair back for her.

“I will walk you to your chambers, my Lady,” he said. “There’s so many men out and about at these hours.”

Arya rolled her eyes but thought there be no point in arguing with him so she just kept walking. When she turned the opposite way to the soldier’s court instead of the royal’s, Gendry gave her a questioning look.

“My lady, the royal chambers are located at the South entrance, not the East.”

“I sleep where my men sleep, my chambers are in the East,” she said sternly.

She could tell Gendry disliked where she slept and saw him physically bite down on the inside of his cheeks. At first he looked like he was about to turn and leave her where she stood, but he relented and began walking east.

“Just seems inappropriate is all,” he mumbled. When Arya didn’t say anything he continued. “You are not a man and you are not a lowborn, you could seriously get hurt with all these drunken men crawling around at night.”

Arya huffed and quickened her pace. The sooner she got to her and Sandor’s chambers the better.

“I doubt anyone would harm the Queen’s sister,” she said exasperatingly.

“Or the Hound’s woman?” Gendry hissed under his breath.

Arya stopped walking altogether and glared at him.

He was wearing better clothes than he normally did. Which didn’t say much considering he wore the clothes only a blacksmith could afford. Now his clothes were clean and pressed and sewn by some of the finest seamstresses in all the Seven Kingdoms. Clearly something only royalty could afford. He also had a beard now, which made him look even more handsome than he did before. Someone clearly paid generously to cut it flawlessly. He looked the part of highborn. She looked down at herself and realized that she definitely did not look that part one bit.

“Yes,” Arya said answering his question. “Or the Hound’s woman.”

Gendry scoffed and looked away from her in disgust. He turned around and walked four steps away from her with his hands on his hips. She thought he was about to walk away from her completely when he suddenly stalked back to where she stood.

“You let that revolting creature put his hands on you?” he hissed under his breath. “You know the things he’s done? You wished for his death when we were first separated!”

Arya sighed and stood her ground. “Yes, he’s done some appalling things, but so have I.”

“You think he’ll stay with you? Be faithful? He’s just as much a whore monger as the Imp,” he snapped. Gendry jabbed a finger at her when he spoke again. “He’ll snap you in two just like his beast of a brother did to his wife. He’s a monster and there’s no way he can love you without hurting you.”

Arya felt her anger come in waves. She hated that he said Sandor was like his brother. He was nothing like him. He wasn’t mindlessly violent and he wasn’t a walking zombie. He was strong and a brute, yes. But he was kind to her and cared about her. That’s all that mattered.

She took a step towards Gendry to threaten him with her dagger. But as soon as she got closer to him he grabbed her by the back of her neck and pressed his thin lips to her own.

The kiss only lasted half a second before Arya kicked him in the back of the leg sending him to his knees.

The kiss felt wrong, it held nothing for her. It wasn’t like when Sandor kissed her. It didn’t make her heart pound in her ears and her legs shake. This just felt like a cold and distant memory, just like her relationship with the new Lord.

He looked up at her pleadingly on his knees in front of her. He grabbed her hands only for her to rip them away from his grasp.

“Please, Arya. Don’t let him get into your head. I love you. This works out perfect! You wont be forced into a marriage with a stranger. You can marry someone you actually care for. I wont make you wear dresses and you can even still fight as much as you like! It would be a perfect union for the both of us, and our families.”

Arya admitted she felt bad for him. She never wanted to hurt him, but he just wasn’t getting it. She needed to be clear with him in the nature of their relationship.

She took his face between her two hands and held his head firmly so he didn’t get any ideas to kiss her again.

“You are a good man, Gendry. I care for you but I don’t love you. You need to understand that. I love _Sandor_. Not _you_. And because I care for you I am going to make sure he doesn’t rip out your liver for kissing me,” she said softly.

Gendry snorted and put a hand overtop hers. “I would love to see him try. They would hang him by the neck if he touched a Lord.”

Arya sighed and stood up at full height and removed her hands from his face.

“I don’t want to discuss this again. I belong to Sandor and you will find yourself a pretty, kind, maid who will tend your keep and bare your babes. If you touch me without my consent again I will kill you before Sandor has the chance.”

With that Arya turned and left the passageway to seek the warmth of her real mate.


	39. Sandor

Sandor had almost fallen asleep in his chair overlooking the fireplace before he heard the latch on their chamber door click. He craned his head backwards and saw Arya removing her boots by the washing basin as well as her tunic and bindings under her sark. He remembered how much she hated wearing them when she was without prying eyes. He turned back to face the flames and waited for her to come to him like she always did. He was shocked when she stopped by his knees and peered down at him nervously. She was biting her bottom lip and her brows were coming together in a frown.

It wasn’t like her to just stand there and wait for an invitation. Normally she would lift his arms from the armrests and crawl into his lap without a second thought. Even when he jokingly complained that she was as heavy as a toad she would simply elbow him and snuggle deeper into his neck, muttering that he was one to talk. He would never reveal to her that it warmed him beyond measure when she was so eagerly affectionate behind closed doors. Even when he was not returning said affections, she always without question, would kiss him all over his face and tell him he was the only one for her.

 He sighed heavily and put his cup of ale on the table next to the chair. He reached for her and when she didn’t move he grabbed her by the sleeve and pulled her to stand between his legs. She looked down at him almost sheepishly.

He knew that boy would cause him trouble when he showed up with those Dornnish cunts. Gendry had it written all over him. Sandor also knew his woman could handle herself if Gendry got too grabby. He wasn’t worried the young Lord would try and sweep her away to another Kingdom. He now had more confidence that their love was durable enough to withstand anything. He was only worried that the young lad had caused her harm or tried to churn his words into making her think she did something wrong. Sandor had been around long enough to know and understand young men’s tricks. Especially when they were trying to get into a woman’s breeches.

“You need to tell me something?” Sandor asked softly while letting his hands run up and down her sides, trying to comfort her obvious worry.

Arya looked out the window for a few moments before answering with a meek, “yes.”

He waited for her to speak while he still let his hands shift to rub her back to put her at ease even if he was not.

When she still didn’t speak he pulled her even closer and stopped moving his hands.

“He touch you?” Sandor asked quietly.

Arya winced when she finally was read to look down at him again.

“Yes but –“ Arya couldn’t finish because Sandor stood and started to walk to the door. He stopped when she darted out in front of him and pushed her hands against his stomach. He thought she was using a considerable amount of effort because she was grunting in trying to keep him in place.

“Would you stop? I dealt with it!”

“I don’t care,” he said. He wanted to wring that boy’s neck for touching her.

Arya rushed her words so quickly that they almost came out in one breath. “I pushed him to the ground and I told him I would stop you from killing him this time. I told him if it happens again I would kill him before you had the chance. So you don’t have to do anything!” she sputtered.

Sandor looked down at her irately.

“Oh, aye! And what do you think the men will say when they think I need a woman to fight my battles? I will not look weak and I will not let them think they can treat you like just another lowborn,” he boomed. “They need to respect you and the best way to earn that it through fear.”

Arya rolled her eyes and folded her arms in front of her. “ _Please_ , you don’t care about any of that. You just want to have a pissing contest with a boy that tried to steal your new shiny toy,” she growled.

“And what would you do if our rolls were reversed?” he challenged.

He saw Arya’s cheek flinch ever so slightly and he knew he had her. “We’re not talking about me right now,” she said pointedly.

Sandor ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He was sick of fighting her and trying to win. Their verbal spats were exactly like fighting her with a sword, with her bouncing and leaping away from his blows strategically. He went to move passed her and she threw her hands to his stomach again and shoved him back.

“If you kill or hurt him they will be forced to charge you with treason and you’ll die in the dudgeons. Is that what you want? To finally have peace in sharing my bed only to have it ripped away from us again?”

She was looking up at him pleading eyes and he gritted his teeth. He didn’t want that, not at all. And then she said the thing that made his blood curdle.

“If you truly love me you will do this for me,” she said evenly.

Sandor felt his eyes dart to her in warning. She never challenged his love for her, not once. He just assumed she would never have the gull or feel strongly enough about anything to do it. He hated that she was using his love for her to save that little shit’s life. He also didn’t like that she was emotionally blackmailing him like this. That boy was becoming a bigger nuisance as each day passed by. 

He shook his head in anger before he finally gripped her tiny chin firmly with his hand.

“He try to kiss you?” he asked. He could feel her try to nod but his hand was preventing her from moving.

“Yes,” she mumbled.

“You like it?” he asked already knowing her answer.

“No, you fucking _moron_ ,” she snapped in aggravation.

He bent nearly in half so his eyes were level with hers. He still held her chin in his hand inches from his own face.

“Alright, little wolf,” he said evenly. “You win. I wont kill him, but I am still going to speak with him,” Arya smiled in gratitude but he held a finger up to stop her from speaking.

“But don’t ever use my feelings towards you to get what you want _ever_ again,” he rumbled.

“I didn’t –“ she began.

“– yes you did.” He interrupted. “And that’s alright for this one time. Consider it a warning that I don’t like to have my feelings used against me. You are the only thing in this world I give a shit about and I don’t want to resent you for it.”

Arya looked at him worriedly while biting her lip and she nodded meekly.

He knew she was taking this seriously as it was unlike her to be so timid. She actually looked sad and regretful, like she didn’t realize what she was doing was bad. This was the first time Arya was actual acting like a girl and Sandor was not about to take it for granted. He took this as her apology for using him.

He nodded curtly and kissed her on the forehead.

“I’m going to speak to the lad now and I don’t want you to follow me,” he said evenly against her head.

When she didn’t reply he swooped his head down and looked at her gravely. She was still chewing on her lip and giving him a worried look.

“Girl, did you hear me?” he asked.

Arya nodded timidly again and he turned and left.

 

XXXXX

 

It was easy enough to find the young Lord. He was sitting in fighting yards with a flagon of wine glaring into a fire pit. It was clear that the Lord had ordered his men to leave him alone.

 _He’s probably pissy because my woman told him to fuck off,_ he thought.

He heard the gravel crunch under his feet as he stomped over to the young lad. When Gendry saw him walking towards him he jumped to his feet in alarm but didn’t run.

“I’m not scared of you,” Gendry said in a shaking voice.

Sandor stopped so he was inches away from the boy and glared down at him.

“You sure about that?” Sandor asked stepping forward so close that the boy had to back up to prevent Sandor’s chest from bumping against him face.

“You can’t do anything to me. It would be punishable by death,” Gendry said threateningly.

Sandor snorted and grabbed the boy by his neck and wrenched him forward. He wasn’t gripping tight enough to choke him, but tight enough to keep him from running.

“You honestly think that scares me, you sniveling little cunt?” he hissed. “I told Geoffery to fuck off in front of all his men in the middle of a war. You think I’m to be scared by a skinny little bastard like you?”

Gendry was clawing at his hand but Sandor was unmovable.

“I take my orders from one person and one person only, and I think we both know who that is,” said Sandor.

“She loves me,” Gendry said. “She even came looking for me before the white walkers came, we–”

“She told me we you two did,” Sandor interrupted. “Come to think of it, I should probably thank you. The fucking you gave her was so bad that it takes very little effort on my part to make her scream my name these days.”

Sandor grinned when he saw the young lad’s face contort into a mixture of anger and pain, so he continued.

“She said your thin cock wasn’t even enough to make her finish. I even had the pleasure of breaking her in. Still have the claw marks on my back to prove it.”

“You’re lying,” Gendry said evenly.

Sandor lifted his hand and yanked the collar of his tunic down to reveal the purple and blue bite marks Arya had given him yesterday. He saw the boy’s face crumble and Sandor reveled in it.

“The first time we fucked she actually climbed into my lap and whined like a pup until I gave it to her. Impatient little thing she was, and still is. Always wanting my cock in her tight little body. Not that I ever mind, she’s the sweetest little thing I’ve ever laid my hands on, especially that firm little arse of hers.”

Sandor grinned as the look of pure agony crossed Gendry’s face.

 _There is no way this little boy could ever have her begging him to fuck her like she does me,_ Sandor thought.

He leaned in so his lips were by Gendry’s ear so he could hear him appropriately. “Arya says I’m not allowed to hurt you. Not because she cares for you, but because she and I could be separated." Sandor moved him back again so he could look into the little Lord's eyes. " _However_ , you try and put your dirty hands on her again, I will mount your head at the bow of my ship as a present to my woman,” he said dangerously. “And believe me, she would fuck me senseless as a reward for it too.”

Gendry still clawed at Sandor’s hand and tried to wiggle out of his path. “You’re a fucking monster. She’ll never be happy with an ugly creature like you,” he spat.

“Maybe not, but she’ll sure be happier with me than a weepy little shit who can’t satisfy her needs or wield a sword,” he sneered.

Sandor then threw him onto the ground by his neck and watched happily as he ruined his fancy clothes by sliding through the mud and dirt.

“You come near her again it will be the end of you, and Arya agrees. Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go and bend the little she-wolf over a table and fuck her so hard all of Kings Landing is going to hear. Including you,” Sandor said smugly.

He turned his heel and began walking back to his woman again with a smile. He hoped his threats worked because he really didn’t want to spend the rest of his life speaking to his woman through prison walls.

When he finally reentered his chambers he saw Arya sitting in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed and a book lay out in front of her. She was wearing his sark as a nightgown again and he thought she looked even more beautiful in the candlelight now than she did before. She looked up from her readings and gave him a quizzical stare.

He began towing his boots off and removing the thin jacket without saying anything. He heard her shift on the bed and silently move to stand behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and he felt her face burry into the centre of his back.

He sighed tiredly and patted her hands that were clasped together on his ribs. After a few moments he turned in her arms so she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

It warmed his soul when he saw concern and worry in her grey eyes. He never had anyone worry about him in his entire miserable existence. And here she was, looking at him just like how he saw his fellow soldiers’ wives look at them after they ran into battle.

He smiled silently down at her to ease her anxiety. “The little shit is still alive,” he said moving her hair away from her face.

“Did you hit him?” she asked.

“No.”

“Is he hurt?”

Sandor rolled his eyes at her. “Just his ego,” he ground out.

Arya beamed up at him and moved her hands from his hips to his neck. Normally he would bend down to kiss her but this time he just watched in amusement as she tried to lift herself as high as she could. When he still didn’t bend she grunted in frustration and grabbed the collar of his shirt to yank him down for a short sweet kiss.

“Thank you,” she said quietly after resting her forehead against his. “You know I didn’t ask you to do that for him, right? You know I was asking for us so we wouldn’t have to part?”

The way she was looking at him made him want to crumble where he stood. It was so rare that either of them would be this vulnerable so it made him uneasy. He knew how to handle her when she yelled and clawed at him. He even knew how to handle her when she was trying to get herself killed through some convoluted sense of honor. He did not, however, know how to handle her when she was so plainly exposing her emotions at him.

“I know,” he mumbled quietly.

Arya smiled and kissed him again with a little more vitality. He jumped in shock when he felt her hands sift though his hair and her tongue ram into his mouth heatedly. He reacted almost immediately and grunted as one of his hands went to the back of neck and the small of her back.

He felt her tiny hands begin pushing him backwards towards the bed and he gladly followed her lead.

When the backs of his legs hit the bed frame she shoved him roughly to get him to sit but Sandor stubbornly refused. He didn’t mind her being in control but he wanted to be the one to take her tonight. He didn’t want to feel like she had even more power over him after he already submitted to her previous request.

She broke the kiss and they both were panting.

She glowered at him but he just returned the stare. At first neither of them moved until he felt her fingers trace up from his thigh to the waist of his breeches. He still didn’t move or let his eyes leave hers when she began unlacing the ties of his breeches.

She then broke out into a coy smile and shoved her right hand down the front of his open trousers.

“Easy!” he gasped when he felt her fingers grasp his semi-hard cock and began pumping relentlessly.

When she didn’t concede he started kissing her vigorously and let his hand travel between her legs to grip her pant-covered mound roughly.

She grunted and her hand movements only increased.

“Fucking shit, Arya,” he chocked out.

He moved to undo the ties on her breeches as well but his hand was roughly slapped away. He ripped his mouth way from hers and moved his hand from between her legs to grasp her chin roughly.

“Stop being a bitch and let me touch you,” he said irritably.

Arya smiled up at him and raised herself to her tiptoes and took his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled down roughly. When he moved to deepen the kiss she instantly pulled away, still with that same coy fucking smile.

“Be a good boy and sit down for me,” she commanded a little breathlessly.

Sandor kept his eyes steady with hers. When he realized she was not going to back down he huffed in defeat and sat down on the mattress, extricating her hand from inside his pants.

She smiled and kicked his legs apart so she could stand between them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and licked the shell of his ear making Sandor shudder.

“You’ve been very good about all that we had to deal with lately,” she whispered into his ear. “Just let me take care my mate tonight.” She nuzzled her face into his neck, just like a she-wolf would do.

Sandor shivered at the possessive way she called him hers. He nodded quickly and allowed her to lead this time.

She moved her hands to the hem of his sark and he raised his arms for her to pull it over his head. She ran her hands all over his chest and stomach with her eyes looking him up and down greedily. He would never understand why his scars would arouse her when they would make other women grimace.

She gave him a chaste kiss with a wicked smile before she started kissing, licking, and biting her way down his chest and belly. Sandor’s eyes rolled into the back of his head at her affections but otherwise stayed still. He didn’t want to ruin the tender moment with his big clumsy hands trying to grab at her.

He groaned when she dropped to her knees and bit his hip roughly. She began tugging at the waist of his pants and looked up at him with doe-like eyes.

“These are going to need to come off,” she breathed.

Sandor swallowed loudly and began to remove them along with his smallclothes. He never felt so unnerved from a woman’s minor touches before and he had a feeling this would not be the last time with the little minx.

Once his pants made it to his ankles she moved so she was directly on her knees with his hard cock by her plump lips.

Sandor thought he might pass out from the sight.

“You know I feel bad about using your feelings before,” she said as she mildly stroked his manhood. “I promise I wont do it again.”

“It’s fine,” he grunted.

“You forgive me?” she asked. But before he could answer she slid her tongue from the base of his cock to the tip like she was enjoying a piece of saltwater toffee.

Sandor was panting and he titled his head back trying to get his bearings. He placed his hands behind him on the bed and leaned back. “Girl, if you do this every time you fuck up, our arguments will never last more than a day.”

Arya smiled devilishly and without warning wrapped her fingers around the base of his cock and took him into her mouth in one swift movement.

Sandor groaned loudly and threaded one of his hands through her hair, guiding her up and down his shaft. He looked down and saw her head bobbing up and down over his cock making vulgarly pleasant sounds. When she moved her other hand to massage his balls he restrained himself from groaning too loudly for the neighbors to hear.

She pulled off of him and ran her tongue in circles over the tip of his penis while never breaking eye contact with him.

“Do you like that?” She asked seductively.

Sandor could only grunt out a muffled “yes,” before she continued to take him wholly in her mouth.

He could feel that he was about to be pushed to the deep end and he tried to restrain himself. He never had this problem with whores, but for some reason whenever he was bedding _this_ young hellion he had to over concentrate on not coming too quickly.

When he realized his efforts were futile he groaned and looked down into the grey depths that were her eyes.

“I’m going to come,” he warned.

Arya started humming with his cock in her mouth. She must have caught on that the vibrations of her vocal chords affected the way he felt the cock sucking because she continued to do it.

“Come for me, my love,” she whispered as she licked up the side of his cock before closing her mouth over him again.

“Fuck, Arya,” Sandor groaned as he felt his seed shoot into her mouth.

He tried his best not to buck his hips, as he didn’t want to hurt her, but the orgasm took over his body. He felt like every nerve was on fire and his heart was beating so fast he was nervous it was going to explode. He spilled his seed into her mouth with a loud groan and was shocked that she swallowed every last drop.

 _Brazen little thing_ , he thought.

When he came down from his high he collapsed backwards onto the mattress tiredly. He felt her tiny hands rub his thighs affectionately before she stood and crawled up his body so she could kiss him. He felt enormously possessive when he could taste his seed on her tongue. It was like the bruises and scratches they left on each other, just proving further they belonged to one another.

“Was it good?” she asked, concerned.

He knew she was always worried that her skill in bed was inadequate to that of the whores he bedded, although she never voiced it out loud. Of course there were whores that were better in bed because of their years of spreading their legs for strangers. But that never bothered him because fucking a woman that didn’t want you was nothing like fucking a woman who loved you. He never wanted another woman in his bed even if their skills were superior, he would never risk it. Arya would kill him in the most horrific way possible if he ever tried.

He had to admit it made him smile that she cared so much about him that Arya would kill him and the whore he was with if he was ever caught whoring around. He never had anyone care about him in such a way.

He kissed her softly before answering her question. “Aye, it was very good. Never doubt that.”

She sighed and rested her head on his chest quietly.

“I can return the favor if you want,” he offered.

He felt Arya shake her head against his chest. “Consider it an apology for being a manipulative bitch earlier,” she said solemnly.

Sandor rubbed her back in comfort. He didn’t want to make her feel like shit about the whole thing. He just wanted her to know that she couldn’t use him like any other man.

He inhaled deeply trying to calm his nerves before he was about to say next. He was shit at trying to show her his emotions. He knew she knew how he felt about her. But he just wanted to reiterate it to show that he truly wasn’t cross with her.

He sighed heavily and after three tries he finally let the words out. “I… I…uh…I love you,” he mumbled into her hair quietly.

He felt Arya freeze against him and he thought for a moment he did something wrong. At first he thought he scared her, but she appeased his concern when she pressed her forehead against his jaw and rubbed his chest.

“I love you too,” she whispered back to him.

Sandor never slept so deeply because tomorrow they were to set sail to unknown lands together.


	40. Arya

It was finally the day that Arya was waiting for the entire time she was occupying Kings Landing. Today they were sailing west.

It was hard to believe that only a month and a half ago she thought she was going to be killed or burned alive in finishing her list. It was even harder to believe that she and the bloody Hound were going to set sail west while warming each other’s beds.

She was laying on top of him happily watching him sleep; the only sounds in their chambers were the soft snores coming from her lover. She lifted her hand and gently stroked his scarred flesh with the back of her knuckles. She moved her fingers up his face to tenderly remove the hair that had fallen into his eyes.

She sighed and thought back to a few days ago when they were lounging in bed together after her little episode. She was still annoyed with herself for treating him so poorly after Jon left. She felt even worse for unintentionally blackmailing him into leaving Gendry be. She swore to herself and to Sandor that she would never do it again. She hated herself for it, but at the same time was happy that she didn’t have to talk to him through the bars of a prison cell for the rest of her days.

Since then he was practically bolted to her side. Even when she had to attend a council meeting he waited outside the door only to follow her to wherever she was going next. She suspected it had something to do with Gendry’s eyes following her everywhere she went as well. Sandor was shielding her from his attentions and she had to admit she didn’t mind at all. She liked having him close by for the most part. It was only annoying when she was inspecting the ship and making adjustments that he barked commands at her men before she had the chance. But besides that she was quite content.

She moved her hand to cup his face and softly run her thumb over his lips. She smiled as she remembered how she made him groan last night. She liked that the Hound could be submissive, but only with her and not anyone else.

She heard him grunt and with his eyes still closed he ripped his head away from her touches.

“Leave off,” he growled while tightening his arm around her waist.

She smiled at his outburst but did as he asked and rested her chin on top of her hands and looked up at him, waiting for him to wake up fully. He was always crabby in the morning if she woke him earlier than he liked.

He huffed in annoyance and finally opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He raised his hand and stroked her hair affectionately before peering down at her.

“What you looking at, girl?” he grumbled.

Arya laughed once and knew that he would be grumpy all morning because of her rousing him. She wormed her way up his body leaving a trail of kisses on his chest and up his neck to finally land on his mouth. When he didn’t respond she moved her lips back to his neck before nibbling on what was left of his ruined ear.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she murmured into his ear quietly.

Sandor just rubbed her back with a huff in response. It was clear she was forgiven but she could tell he was still annoyed with her.

She smiled into his neck and began sucking on his pulse. “You want me to make it up to you?” she asked coyly.

Before he could answer she slithered down his body so her hand could gently start caressing his cock.

At first he stubbornly ignored her. He just continued to rub her back slowly. She did however feel his heart beat increase under her cheek as she slowly touched him. She smiled against his chest at his mulish nature. He really was just like her. It wasn’t until she bit down on the spot right above his nipple that he finally reacted. 

He snatched her hand and pulled it away from his manhood and laced her fingers with his own. He then flipped her over and so she was lying on her back with him settled between her thighs. He was looking down at her with mild amusement and lazy arousal.

“You are just like every other woman when she wants to get something from a man, you know that?” he said with his eyes shinning.

She smiled up at him and pulled him down for a lazy kiss. “Doesn’t look like you mind much,” she murmured against his lips.

Sandor shook his head and started nibbling on her jaw in response.

She sighed and closed her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in his affections. When his hand gripped her knee and hitched it over his hip she hummed in approval.

“You sure you ready to leave?” he asked against her throat.

Arya had to swallow in concentration. His kisses were getting more and more distracting. “I am. You?” she asked.

Sandor nodded against her throat before he gave her a more detailed answer. “Aye. That way I can keep a better eye on my woman to make sure no one tries groping at her when I’m not looking,” he mumbled.

Arya rolled her eyes and pulled his face back up so she could look into his eyes. “You really think I’d let another man touch me after you heard me scream for you at night so many times?” she asked at little breathlessly.

Sandor grunted in affirmation as he swopped down for a rougher kiss.

She let his tongue take hers dominantly as her hands roamed his back. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders and raked them down to his hips eliciting a growl from him.

“You really think another man would dare touch me when he sees the Hound’s bites and bruises covering my body?” she breathed into his ear.

Sandor moved down her body so he could touch and lick at her tits. Arya arched her back and let him have his way with her. His hand kneaded her breast and pinched her nipple cause her to gasp in pleasure. His tongue was rolling around the rosy bud lazily and when she felt him teeth graze her breast she moaned. He looked up from her chest and snickered.

“It’s almost too easy to get you to moan, girl,” he said smugly.

Arya gripped the sheets tighter when she felt his scratchy beard come in contact with her breast. “Aye,” she said. “You’re really good at it now.”

 His hand trailed down her body and slid to that sensitive spot between her legs, never breaking eye contact with her.

“Oh, aye?” he asked. “Here I thought I was always good at it. You may recall our first night together and you were screaming my name and begging me to fuck you.”

He rolled his forefinger in slow circles around her the sensitive nub and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She started gasping his name like a prayer to the Many Faced God. He slipped a finger inside her and began pumping it slowly and when she spread her legs more openly he slipped another inside her as well. He brought his head down to settle between her legs and began lapping at her slick folds like a dog to water.

Arya swallowed thickly trying to get her wits about her. She didn’t want to come this fast but she thought it might be out of her control the way he was licking and fingering her. So she wrapped her hand around his wrist and gently tugged at it until he pulled his fingers away from her.

Sandor looked up at her in confusion and slight hurt at her rejection. She shook her head to soothe his worry that he did something wrong.

“I don’t want to come around your fingers, I want to come around _you_.”

Sandor’s jaw clenched and he shot up so he was standing on his knees. He quickly flipped her onto her stomach roughly.

“On your hands and knees, girl,” he barked. “I want to fuck you good and proper before we get on that blasted boat.”

Arya couldn’t help the whimper of anticipation as she scrambled to do as he asked.

“Push your arse back,” he said.

When she didn’t do what he asked right away he slapped her hard on the ass causing a squeal to escape her lips. His hand slowly rubbed and caressed her bare bottom and back admiringly before he slapped her other cheek.

Arya moaned and let her head fall between her arms in pleasure. He was toying with her and she loved every minute of it.

“Hit me again,” she breathed. She honestly never thought she would hear those words come out of her mouth in this context but she wanted to be slapped again. The newfound pain was exceedingly erotic.

He smacked her ass again with both hands, hitting both cheeks in a delightfully painful way.

“You like it when I spank you, girl?” he asked hoarsely.

Arya nodded and when he hit her again she cried out his name loudly.

His hands then went back to massaging her ass, trying to rub out any lingering uncomfortable pain she may still have.

She pushed back against his hands trying to ease just a little bit of the ache she had between her thighs, but he just backed up on the bed, leaving her grunt in frustration.

“Spread your legs for me, sweetling,” he whispered.

When she did she felt his finger tease her folds. He wasn’t even _really_ touching them, just the ghost of his skin running over her slit. Arya cussed his name to the God of Death but he still didn’t relent. He just kept teasing her and when she shoved her ass back to get them to penetrate, he just slapped her on the ass again.

“Naughty little wolf-bitch,” he said. “You don’t get to come until your Hound tells you to.” 

She groaned and he continued with his ministrations for a while until she was panting and couldn’t see straight. When she moved her hand to touch herself to get some kind of friction he snatched her hand and held it against her back forcefully.

“What did I just tell you?” Sandor lectured. “Not until I say so.” He cautiously let go of her hand and she let it fall back to the sheets, her fingers clutching them in anticipation.

“Please, Sandor,” she begged. “Please touch me.”

Sandor grunted and hunched over her so his chest was pressed against he back and lips were at her ear.

“You want me to fuck you? Is that it?” he purred in her ear. “You want me to fuck you like I did when we first got together?”

Arya remembered that night when he told her he would show her how a dog fucks a wolf. She remembered it not only because it was the first time she was with him, but also because it was the first time any man made her feel that way.

Arya quickly nodded unsteadily, she wanted anything that would gain her release again.

“You want me to keep spanking you?” he asked.

Arya nodded enthusiastically again. When his hand left her wet folds she thought he was prolonging her torture even more, but when she looked over her shoulder she saw him holding his cock and positioning it at her entrance.

When he rammed into her she wasn’t expecting the pure heat that radiated off of his skin. She squealed in sheer pleasure when his hand slapped her rump again as he relentlessly pounded into her body.

“ _Fuck_ , Arya,” he groaned. “ _So fucking tight_.”

She moaned with him as he kept pounding into her like she was a dog.

“S-Sandor,” she begged. “Spank me again,” she breathed.

When he complied she cried out his name again.

Gods, it was such an arousing position. She of course liked most things Sandor did in bed. Although there was one time he was pulling at her hair too roughly and she snapped at him angrily. But right now, in this moment, she never wanted him to leave her. Every time in bed with Sandor was different. Sometimes he was very sweet and gentle with her. Loving her the way a man dedicated to a woman should. But this morning he was fucking her hard like a feral beast that only wanted to hear her scream. She liked both equally and never thought another man could make her feel the way he did at this moment.

“You like the way I fuck you?” he asked breathing hard.

She couldn’t answer as her breaths started coming in short gasps and she felt her walls about to clench.

Sandor continued to pound into her mercilessly with his hands gripping her hips so tight it hurt. Arya moaned and felt the wave of her climax crash over her. She arched her back and cried out a string of vulgar cusses mixed with his name. She heard him groan as he emptied his seed inside her while never missing a beat of his hips slamming against her ass.

When she started coming down from her high she felt Sandor yank her hips backward five more times making her grunt, even though they were both done, it was as if he were possessively reminding her exactly where she belonged. 

He collapsed so his sweaty chest hair was pressed against her back and with hands braced beside her own on all fours. His head hung by her shoulder and she felt his hot breath tickle her shoulder. He was huffing like a horse after a three-day long ride.

His beard scratched her neck as he nuzzled his face into her skin. His cock was still twitching inside her and she felt her walls unconsciously constricting around his shaft as if she never wanted him to move. His massive weathered body was sweating against her when she felt his big hand reach to her cheek and pulled her in for a clumsy kiss.

After a few moments like that he pulled out of her making them both groan at once. He flopped onto his back and pulled her flush against him, kissing her on the crown of her head.

She looked up from where she lay on his chest and he pressed his forehead against hers. Both of them kept their eyes open not wanting to leave this moment. 

“We should get up,” she murmured wistfully. His brown eyes looked slightly annoyed by her comment but just sighed and nodded.

They dressed quietly although she could feel his gaze on her when she was naked and looking for her breeches that were shucked off carelessly last night.

She was about to put on the bindings for her chest when she heard him clomp over to her and wrap his arms around her from behind. His forearms resting just beneath her bare breasts and his mouth latching onto her neck.

She hummed in approval as they stood quietly letting the morning sun radiate their naked bodies.

“You look beautiful,” he mumbled shyly into her neck.

She smirked and pressed her nose into his temple. “You’re sweet,” she said.

Sandor snorted and gave her a final squeeze and kiss to her temple before removing his arms from her midsection.

When she finished dressing she saw Sandor leaning against the south wall with his arms crossed looking at the ships preparing to board. He was already fully dressed in his tunic and sword. He was looking at them like trying to solve a great puzzle he couldn’t figure out.

“What?” she asked.

He didn’t turn away from where he was looking when he finally answered. “You know you are going to be stuck with me for years on that ship,” he mumbled. “You won’t be able to get rid of my ugly mug if you change your mind about me.”

Arya felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Do you want to get rid of _me_?” she asked somewhat panicked.

Sandor turned and glared at her. “Don’t ask stupid questions, girl. You know my feelings about you.”

She sighed in relief and walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “What are you trying to tell me, Sandor?”

He looked down at her seriously and cupped her cheeks with his massive hands.

“You’re young. You could have anyone you want. Are you sure about _this_? About _us_? You can back out now if want and no one would hold it against you. You could sail the ocean and find new lands on your own and find some handsome lad that your family wouldn’t hate.”

She could see the anguish and torture in his eyes. The man she knew was strong and sure of himself. He never veered his course and was always ready to take on anything that was larger than him. It was odd seeing him in such a state on uncertainty.

“This doesn’t have to be a life sentence. You have options,” he said finally.

Arya sighed and glared at him. She appreciated what he was trying to do, but she was sick of him and everyone else telling her that she was too good for him. They didn’t know anything and he was just used to being kicked around like an unwanted mutt. He just didn’t understand what it was like to be wanted and to be loved.

“Do you honestly think I would’ve gone through all of this if I wasn’t sure of you already?” 

Sandor shrugged and crossed his arms over his broad chest. 

“You know as well as I do that time changes the way a person looks at things. You know that come five years time you and I will be different people,” he mumbled quietly.

Arya sighed and place her hands on his elbows, wishing he would unfold his arms from his chest.

“Then we can change together,” she said. She was looking up at him and clearly saw he wasn’t completely convinced. “Have you ever felt about anyone like how you feel about me?” she asked.

"No,” Sandor answered immediately.

“Don’t you think this situation is a bit different then? Don’t you think that since is the first time you feel this way that it might be something worth giving a shot?” she asked.

“It’s not _me_ I’m worried about,” he muttered.  “I doubt my feelings will ever change when it comes to you.”

Arya smiled sadly up at him. “So you hold no faith in me then?”

Sandor snorted and finally uncrossed his arms to rest on her shoulders.

“I just want you to know that you have alternatives, Arya. You don’t have to feel obligated to stay with me just because I’m sailing with you. You can leave it all behind and live your life happy without a mutilated shit like me.”

He dropped his hands from her in defeat and looked dejectedly at her. His words sounded a little choked but he believed the words he was saying. He actually thought that she would choose someone else when she had already given up so much to be with him.

 _Why can’t he just see that I_ only _want him?_ She thought. 

She sighed and knew that a soft approach was not a good one to take with the Hound. He responded best to aggression and violence. It was what he was used to his entire life and she expected him to be no different in matters such as this.

“Alright then,” she said folding her arms across her chest, completely annoyed with this entire conversation. “Fine. I have options. And since you are one of them you are the option I choose. I wouldn’t stay in a man’s bed because I feel _obligated_ ,” she said the word as if she as disgusted by it. She took a step closer to him so she was pressed against him and she had to crane her neck to see his eyes. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “I would stay with a man if I loved him and I could rely on his blade at my back when I needed it.”

Sandor’s hands lifted from his sides and he placed them her hips and squeezed. His nostrils were flared and his eyes were completely focused on her in greedily. He looked her up and down for a moment as if he were trying to find a lie. When he finally looked into her eyes and saw nothing but her devotion he looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t muster it. His mouth opened and closed three times before Arya rolled her eyes and gave his shoulders a tight squeeze before speaking again.

“Now, will you stop acting like such a ninny and help me with my bag? We’re going to be late,” she said walking away from him.

She heard him huff in annoyance but otherwise didn’t argue. 

 

....

 

Little did either of them know that Gendry Baratheon was on the other side of the door, listening to their rough lovemaking and plotting his preparations to kill Sandor Clegane.


	41. Gendry

Gendry was waiting in the shadows as Arya and Sandor left their chambers. When they rounded the corner out of sight he ran to their door and jimmied the lock to open it. It was a lock used in almost all castles, he used to make them all the time when he was a blacksmith. He made the key’s too so it was easy to get the door open.

The room looked at though it was ransacked. The painting on the wall was cut in half, there was broken bits of furniture and mattress straw swept up into a pile in the corners, chunks of the mantel on the fireplace was hacked out. It looked as though they obtained a new mattress and sheets for the bed because that seemed to be the only thing in the room that wasn’t completely destroyed.

 _This is probably the aftermath of the Hound’s beatings on Arya_ , Gendry thought.

Gendry walked to the bed and examined it. The sheets were strewn all over the bed messily without a care in the world if it was made. He had asked a few of the servants how many times they visited Arya and Clegane’s room and apparently it was rare. He learned they usually ate in their room and would leave their dishes in the hallway for the servants to pick up. The couple actually asked that they do not enter unless asked.

“Probably because he wants her to be locked away as much as possible,” Gendry muttered.

He picked up one of the pillows that had a long dark hair and pressed it to his face. He recognized that smell immediately from their night together, it was pure Arya.

Gods, that night they were together was glorious. Much better than any of the other women he was with. He loved the smell of her hair and the feel of her lips on his own. He loved the feel of her tiny hands feeling all over his chest and neck. He liked that she bit him like a wild woman.

He tried not to think of her when she rejected his marriage proposal. Every night afterwards he was sinking deep into his cups and stumbling into the whorehouse only to ask for women that looked like Arya. During the quick time he was preparing to become Lord of Storms End he heard that Arya had killed Cersei and Jamie Lannister while the Hound had killed his brother. At the time Gendry thought nothing of the two traveling together to kill them all. He only thought that she was using the Hound so he could take care of Gregor while she murdered the Queen.

He would never have guessed that when he entered Kings Landing that he would find out that Arya and the dreaded Sandor Clegane would be a couple. When he saw Arya when he first returned to Kings Landing he was ecstatic, even though she was keeping her cold exterior up, he thought he knew she was happy to see him too. Although that thought was quickly squashed when he heard the rumors from multiple men that Arya lay with the Hound. At first he didn’t believe it. But then that evening at dinner he saw her smiling up at him and clutching his arm as they sat together with the other men, he knew that something was wrong. Arya Stark rarely smiled at anything, much less _anyone_. Then he remembered the truly horrifying moment when she craned her neck and kissed him full on the lips.

In that moment he wanted to strangle Clegane and then Aryra. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that she could even stomach looking at his mutilated face much less touch it. When he confronted her about it afterward she seemed indifferent about his feelings towards her. That angered him even more.

Gendry walked over to the washing basin and looked at the dirty water. He saw Sandor’s beard trimmings floating through his reflection that just made him more furious. Arya was comfortable enough to have Sandor in her bed as well as share a living space with him. Their odd domesticity infuriated him to no end. It should be his beard in that water, not Sandor’s. It should be his name she was crying out at night, not Sandor’s.

Over the last week he watched them canoodle and snog at each other for all of King’s Landing to see. He hated that they were so public with their affections. He watched them when they ate together, always whispering and laughing low enough so no one could hear. He would always fill her cup and she would always scrape her leftovers onto his plate. He watched them when they were in the pits and sparred with other men and sometimes each other. When they sparred with each other and Arya would win she would grin and call him an old man, when Clegane won he would help her up and whisper something in her ear that would make her blush. He watched as they snuck into a shadow so that filthy man could smile like a snake and sneak a kiss to Gendry’s former lover’s lips. She would always laugh and try to push him away playfully, but he would always nip at her neck until she conceded. Gendry even waited outside their door at night hearing the disgusting cries of pleasure from both Arya and the Hound. He tried to get Sandor alone since he threatened him in the fighting yards on his first day back, but the blasted ogre was like her shadow. He never left her side, so Gendry just continued to keep watch at a distance, waiting to make his next move. He knew they couldn’t spend _every_ waking hour with each other. Eventually they would have to separate for one reason or another.

Even today he knew they were leaving and he wasn’t about to give up. He figured that Arya couldn’t love a dead man, even if she did grieve for him, she would eventually get over it and he would be her next choice. Gendry just knew that no one could know it was he who arranged for the assassination. Arya was tricked into falling in love with Clegane and he knew she would never forgive him.

He walked to the window and looked out to the training yards. He saw the man in question, barking orders at some Dornnish men. His heart skipped as his eyes darted in every corner of the grounds and he didn’t see Arya in sight.

 _This is my chance_ , he thought happily.

Gendry whipped around and raced to the door and down the steps, almost tripping over his new cloak. When he ran outside he saw Clegane had his back turned and was demanding there be more wine brought onto the ship.

Gendry looked over his shoulder and saw Georden, one of his most loyal subjects and personal shield and waved him over.

“Yes, my Lord?” he asked when he finally reached the young Lord.

“I will test your loyalty today, Georden,” Gendry whispered. “You once pledged your life to the Baratheons, do you hold true to your word?”

Georden looked somewhat flabbergasted but nodded all the same.

“Good,” said Gendry. “Then I order you to kill that man and say it was of your own volition,” he snarled as he jabbed his finger in the direction of Clegane.

Georden looked startled by the request and then his gaze focused on the large man.

“Don’t worry,” Gendry assured. “You won’t be charged with anything. When they seize you I will tell them that you will be tried and convicted in Storm’s End, which won’t happen. I will see to it that you are given a house and funds as a reward for killing that beast.”

“But my Lord,” Georden said. “Why do you want me to kill him? He’s done nothing to us.”

“Are you questioning my orders?” Gendry snapped angrily.

Georden looked pensive for a moment and then grinned from ear to ear. “It would be a pleasure to be known as the man who put the Lannister dog down,” he whispered.

Gendry smiled back and him and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man. Wait for me to reach the top of the tower and count to fifty before you strike. No one can know of my involvement in this.”

With that Gendry turned to the south tower and began sprinting up the steps giddily. When he finally reached the top he made a show of being seen a far distance from the Hound so no one would suspect him. He waved at some of the stable boys and they looked up at him questioningly.

He watched as Georden stood there, obviously counting in his head. He must’ve reached fifty because he started marching over to an unarmed Clegane. Georden unsheathed his sword and raised it over his head, ready to cut down the giant man. At the last second Sandor turned and quickly dodged the blow, making Georden’s sword slam into the dirt.

“The fuck you doing?!” Sandor roared.

Georden didn’t answer and slashed his sword sideways making Sandor jump back to avoid getting his belly cut. He then jabbed it forward only to be dodged yet again by Sandor.

“Fuck sakes! Kill him!” Gendry hissed lowly.

They continued to dance around with Georden trying his best to land a hit with Sandor jumping and dodging as best he could. Some of the men began crowding around, but did nothing. Gendry smiled that his plan was working. He knew that no man would stop the fight because it was in the training grounds. They would just think they were sparring like any other day.

Gendry smiled when Georden made contact with Clegane’s arm and blood began to spill down his hand and fingers.

Suddenly Gendry heard a girlish scream and he saw Arya sprinting with her needle in hand to come to Clegane’s defense.

“No!” Gendry yelled as he saw Arya’s sword come in contact with Georden’s. He watched as she dipped and dodged much more gracefully than her partner.

He then watched in horror as his sworn shield punched Arya square in the jaw, sending her flying into the dirt. She groaned in pain and rolled onto her side. Georden then turned and raised his sword over his head to kill Arya.

“You fucking shit!” Sandor screamed.

Sandor kicked Georden in the legs and sent him flying to his knees. He punted the sword out from Georden’s hand and grabbed it before he could know what was happening.

Gendry quickly began running down the steps to get to Arya. His heart was pounding in his ears and his palms were dripping with sweat. This was not going according to plan at all. Why did Arya have to butt in?! This problem could’ve been solved if she had just left Sandor’s side for one second! Now she could be dead and it would be all his fault.

When he reached the bottom steps he saw a crowd had formed around the spectacle. He pushed through the small hoard of people and saw Clegane standing over Georden and holding him by the roots of his hair. His sword was at Georden’s throat with Arya standing off to the side cradling her jaw.

“I knew your master would sick someone after me, but I thought it would be someone actually skilled instead of a pathetic sack of shit that can’t even kill an unarmed man,” Sandor growled into Georden’s ear. “Even with all that I would’ve just handed you over to the Starks to deal with. But then you think you can touch my woman?” Sandor jerked the man’s head back even further, exposing his throat in a painful angle. “You think I would let a pathetic maggot like you get away with striking _my_ woman?” Sandor snorted and brought his sword to Georden’s throat. “No one touches my woman except for _me_.”

With that Sandor slit Georden’s throat from ear to ear. When the body slumped down he brought his sword down stabbing him in the back of the neck so the hilt was sticking out and pointing to the sun. Sandor spit on the bloodied corpse before he stepped over it and straight to Arya.

Gendry saw Arya was still holding her jaw and looking up at Sandor with owlish eyes. Gendry quickly darted around the dissipating crowd so he could hear what they were saying.

When Sandor finally reached her he wound his arm round her waist and lifter her chin with his fingers.

“You alright?” he asked, unintentionally smearing Georden’s blood across her skin. 

Arya nodded quickly with her eyes never leaving his. “I could have killed him on my own you know,” she quipped quietly.

Clegane chuckled and looked her over once before answering. “Aye, I know you could’ve. But I wanted the pleasure of his blood on my boots for striking you.”

Arya smiled and then grimaced holding her cheek. “Fuck, he struck me good,” she mumbled.

“Lemme’ see,” he said tenderly tugging at her sleeve.

Gendry watched as Clegane gently turned Arya’s head so he could study the wound.

“It’ll bruise something awful, but I don’t think your jaw is broken,” he mumbled.

He turned her face back to face him and swooped down to press his lips against hers. Arya’s hands slid to his shoulders to grasp them, but suddenly pulled away to look at the blood on her hand. She quickly darted to his side and examined the lesion on his bicep.

“And _you’re_ going to need stitches before we go,” she said.

Clegane looked clearly annoyed but nodded and let her lead them to the maester’s chambers.

Gendry swore as he watched them leave together, _again_. He stayed behind the carriage until he was certain they were gone. The last thing he needed was for Clegane to find him so close to the attempted murder scene.

 _This isn’t finished,_ he thought. _Just because I’ve lost this chance doesn’t mean I will just let them leave together._

Gendry stood and followed the couple as he determined his backup plan.


	42. Sandor/Gendry

“Would you hurry up, you miserable old bastard? I have shit to do,” Sandor growled at the maester who was sewing up the wound on his arm. The maester’s hands started to shake and he sputtered an apology as he tried to tend the wound quickly.

Sandor was already bored of this and just wanted to get away from this fucking city. It brought him nothing but death and misery his entire life and he wanted to be done with it.

He looked across the room and saw Arya speaking heatedly with one of the Unsullied guards. She jabbed a finger against his chest and he recognized that look she was giving the man. It was the same look she sometimes gave him when she wasn’t getting her way. She was threatening him. He always enjoyed it when she bared her dirty claws at someone that wasn’t him. He found it quite arousing in fact.

“Girl,” he barked.

Arya looked away from the solider and raised a thick brow in question.

“Get over here. I want to know what you’re growling about,” he said with a jerk of his head.

Arya looked back at the man and grabbed the front of his tunic with her tiny fist and dragged him over to the table Sandor was sitting on. Her hip was touching his thigh and Sandor had to stop himself from grabbing her arse. He had to admit it was quite comical to see such a tiny woman manhandle such a large man. It was also somewhat erotic.

“Like I was saying before I was _so_ _rudely_ interrupted,” Arya said glaring at Sandor. “I want you to find the Lord of Storms End and bring him to me immediately.”

“My Lady,” said the nameless soldier. “He is a Lord. We cannot harm those who are of a higher status than us.”

Sandor grinned when he saw Arya’s pulse quicken in her neck. He knew she was keeping the calm on her face, but she was most definitely furious at the soldier’s blatant disregard of her order.

“I knew the Unsullied were cockless but I didn’t know they were brainless as well,” Arya snapped. “I told you to bring him to me. I didn’t say anything about harming him, you idiot.”

Arya folded her arms across her chest and waited for the soldier to move. When he didn’t Sandor grabbed the man by his arm and shoved him backwards. The soldier stumbled back and quickly straightened himself out, obviously embarrassed by being snuck up on by a man with injury.

“Stop your fucking whining and do as you’re told,” Sandor sneered. “She’s the King’s sister, not some fucking low-born scum on the streets.”

The soldier looked between the two for a moment before he reluctantly bowed and left the maester’s courters. Arya huffed in annoyance and turned her head to glare at the maester.

“And what the fuck is taking so long?” she snapped at him.

The maester looked up and quickly began wrapping Sandor’s bicep. “Just have to finish wrapping it, my Lady.”

Sandor couldn’t stop grinning at her. She truly was incredible. She was so beautiful when she took on the role as a leader. Part of him was giddy with excitement at the prospect of watching her bark orders to a bunch of men for the next few years.

 _She’ll look even more beautiful when I get to drag her to our cabin on the boat and fuck her senseless whenever I want,_ he thought with pleasure.

Sandor felt Arya’s hands absentmindedly rest on his thigh while they waited for the maester to finish his work. He put his hand over top of hers and gave them a soothing squeeze. She wasn’t looking at him when she pulled her hands away making him sigh. She then took a step away from him so they were no longer touching at all.

It was clear she was just as angry as Sandor was about the attack. It was also clear she wasn’t in the mood to be comforted. He understood that. Sandor would’ve been tearing apart the young Lord as they speak if he ordered an assassination attempt on his little wolf.

When the maester finally finished and left the room Sandor turned and looked at Arya. She was glaring out the window with her back turned to him and her hands clasped behind her back like a soldier.

Sandor stood from the table and put his shirt back on. When he moved to stand behind her she turned and looked up at him.

“What you wanna do?” he asked while carefully gripping her shoulders, unsure if she would reject his touch again.

Right when she was about to speak Sansa rounded the corner into the maester’s courters.

“Arya! One of the servants said Gendry’s guard attacked you?” Sansa shrieked. Arya audibly sighed when her sister hugged her tightly.

“It wasn’t me he was after,” Arya mumbled into Sansa’s red hair.

Sansa finally released her and looked up at Sandor carefully. She reached out and gripped his elbow and gave him a tight smile. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt,” she said. “Otherwise I would have to be cleaning up the bodies Arya would leave me.”

Sandor gave her a curt nod and stepped back. He didn’t like anyone touching him except his woman.

“I want him dead,” Arya said looking directly at Sandor.

Sansa turned and put her hands on Arya’s cheeks just for her to take a step back. “He’s a Lord, Arya. He will be arrested and convicted if he truly was behind this.”

“Where is he?” she asked.

Sansa smoothed out the front of her dress before she answered. “We, uh, can’t locate him just yet. But when we do I promise there will be a trial.”

Sandor felt his hands tingling. He wanted the shit dead too, but he knew it would cost him his freedom if he went against Sansa’s wishes. The way Arya was looking at him made him want to grant her request. He wanted to please her, but he wanted to leave on the ship with her more.

“My Lady,” Sandor interrupted. “Would you mind if Arya and I speak alone for a few moments?”

Sansa turned and looked a little shocked that he asked so politely. He had spent enough time in castles to know what highborns wanted when requests were given. She nodded quickly and gave her sister another hug and left the room.

When the door closed Arya looked back at Sandor. “I want him dead,” she repeated fiercely.

Sandor took a step forward and gripped her shoulders again. “I know, sweetling. But do you remember what you told me when he kissed you?” he asked while rubbing his thumbs on her shoulders in attempts to soothe her anger. “Do you want to be talking to me through prison bars for the rest of our lives?”

Arya was glaring at him and when she tried to step back again he grasped her biceps tightly so she wouldn’t move.

“First you want him dead when he kissed me, and then when he tries to kill you you want him alive? How he fuck does that make sense?” she asked angrily.

“Arya, please just listen to me,” he said angrily.

“No! I want him dead for thinking he can just order your death with no consequences,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Just let your sister handle it, he’ll be rotting in a prison while you and I sip on Dornish wine on our ship.”

“No.”

Sandor took a deep breath and tried to calm his anger. He couldn’t let her get him riled up even further. He didn’t want to feed her fire even more and he also didn’t want to piss her off and have her anger directed at him.

“I won’t,” she said trying and failing to wiggle out of his grip.

 _Such a stubborn bitch,_ he thought.

Sandor jerked her back roughly trying to get her to stop moving. “Do it for me,” he said softly.

Arya’s head snapped up to glower at him. Her nostrils were flared and her neck started to turn red. He knew he had backed her into a corner by saying it and he could tell she was furious.

She looked absolutely gorgeous.

As soon as he let go of her arms she shoved him roughly. And although the force wasn’t nearly enough to actually push him back, he did take a step backwards so she wouldn’t feel weak or powerless.

“You’re such a shit,” she spat. “Don’t think you can just say that every time you want something from me!”

Sandor grabbed her wrists and pulled her close before she could push him again. “I know, sweetling. I–”

“–Don’t _sweetling_ me. Promise me you wont ever do that again,” she said while struggling to get away from his grip on her.

“No,” he said wrenching her tighter to his chest. “I wont because I know you. I know you’ll try and do something that will get you killed and I need something to be able to control that temper of yours.”

“I _do not_ have a fucking temper!”

“Yes you do.”

Arya glared at him but didn’t respond. She was angry that he was right and he grinned. Even though she stopped struggling he held both her wrists with one hand and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“I have to admit that my cock gets hard when I see you snapping at all these men. Gets even harder when you threaten to kill someone that tried to assassinate me.”

Arya snorted delicately and he carefully leaned in slowly to nuzzle her neck. He waited for a few moments until he released her wrists so he could rest his hands on her hips. At first she didn’t move, but when his hands began rubbing up and down her sides she finally huffed in defeat and started stroking the back of his head. He smiled against her skin in victory and wrapped his arms around her, pressing their bodies tightly against each other. Sandor hummed at the feeling of Arya’s fingers running through his hair.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled against his head.

“Mmm…” said Sandor as he kissed her neck and inhaled deeply. “You smell good.”

They stayed like that for a while. Sandor was quite happy she was finally listening to him. He was also happy she was letting him touch her now. Her neck was soft and he adored the way her breath hitched every time he kissed it.

He felt her pat his shoulder and he begrudgingly unlatched himself from her body and stood up straight. He placed his hands on her cheeks and let his thumbs smooth over her high cheekbones.

“Thank-you,” he mumbled.

Arya rolled her eyes and began walking to the door only for Sandor to follow.

When they made it outside Arya yelled at the men to begin loading onto the boats. It was clear Arya was not going to wait for the trial of Gendry before she left. Men bustled around loading last minute items, yelling at each other for better cots, and saying goodbye to loved ones and friends. Sandor and Arya began barking orders of what to bring and what not to bring. He saw a man carrying a skin of wine and he walked away from her to snatch it from his hands.

“Now fuck off,” Sandor growled.

Sandor looked to his left and saw Arya overlooking at a map with one of the navigators. He was grateful her back was to him for he was blatantly staring at her bottom. He felt his cock twitch when she turned and yelled at another man for carrying a load of swords improperly. Gods, she truly was beautiful when she was angry. Even earlier today when they were arguing he thought she was stunning. He couldn’t believe that he wanted her again after this morning’s tumble. He would remember her begging him to spank her while she was getting fucked from behind for the rest of his life.

He suddenly had an idea and strode over to her quickly when he saw a soldier leave her side.

Arya had her hands on her hips as she supervised the men loading the boat. Her eyes were darting left and right watching to make sure things were being done to her high standard. He leaned down to her ear before he spoke so no one could hear.

“Wolf-bitch,” he rumbled.

Arya looked up at him clearly confused by his odd tone.

“I need to show you something,” he said quietly.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

Sandor shook his head quickly. “No. Just need to show you something.”

Arya’s eyes narrowed suspiciously but she just nodded and motioned for him to lead the way.

 

**XXXXX**

 

Gendry sat in the shadows watching Arya and Clegane leave the yards. He knew that this would be his last chance to kill the Hound. They would never convict a Lord of murder. He would just say that the Hound threatened him and he was in the right. Surly Arya would forgive him. He knew it because she loved him. She would see. She would see how Clegane manipulated her young age into crawling into bed with him. Gendry had already forgiven her for being with that ghastly man. She would look lovely in white on their wedding day. He looked forward to it, bedding ceremony and all. He couldn’t wait until she had those strong legs wrapped around him again.

That’s when Gendry shot up from the spot he sat and followed them.

 

........


	43. Arya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second last chapter! 
> 
> I again, apologize for the length! I feel as though this story is being dragged out so next chapter is for sure the last. 
> 
> Thanks and hope you enjoy!

Arya followed Sandor suspiciously as he practically dragged her from the pier to wherever it was he was going. She had no idea what he possibly could have to show her at such horrible timing.

She recognized the route they were going once he rounded the corner in the south east end of the castle.

“Why are we going to the old kitchens? They haven’t been used in years,” she said completely confused.

Sandor was silent as he abruptly stopped in front of what seemed to be a random door and wrenched it open. He pulled her in by the sleeve of her coat and kicked the door shut.

The room used to be an old storage facility for canned fruits and vegetables. It now served as a linen closet for special occasions.There was a small table in the centre of the room and the sheets were folded perfectly into the shelving along the walls. It also seemed like everything was covered in a thick layer of dust from not being used for so long. 

He suddenly pulled her flush against his body and she slammed into his chest. He grabbed her by the face and kissed her so deeply it almost hurt. When she pushed against his chest in surprise Sandor finally relented.

“I want you, _now_ ,” he demanded.

When he ducked his head again Arya pushed further on his chest to keep him away. “We are to leave any second! We don’t have time for this,” she said annoyed.

Sandor groaned and moved his lips to her ear. “I wasn’t lying when I told you watching you bark orders at all those men made my dick hard.” And as if to prove his point he snatched her hand from his chest and slid it down to the front of his breeches so she could feel. Not that she really needed to, she could feel his cock bulging out when they were pressed together.

“We just fucked only a few hours ago, Sandor," she said in annoyed amusement. 

“I know, it’s not my fault you look beautiful when you’re being a bitch to all those idiots,” he murmured against her neck making Arya smile despite herself.

Sandor grabbed her by her ass and yanked her closer to him so she was tightly pressed against him. When he went to kiss her again she jerked her head back, refusing the bruising kiss that was soon to follow. Sandor glared at her but she just glared right back at him.

“You have to be gentle,” she said in warning and pushing her hands against his chest. “I’m still tender from how rough you were this morning.”

Sandor looked at her determinedly. “I can be gentle,” he mumbled.

Arya raised a questioning brow. “I can count on one hand how many times you were gentle with me,” she said. “And it only started off gentle and ended roughly.”

“I don’t ever do it because I don’t need to. You’re not like other women who are all fleshy and weak everywhere,” he explained while loosening his tight grip on her hips. “You want me to be gentle I can be gentle.”

Arya looked at him as if assessing his truth. At that moment she realized that he was just like any other man. He looked impatient and annoyed that she was talking at all instead of throwing herself at him. She had to smile at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Arya,” he said impetuously.

When she didn’t answer she actually had to bite down a laugh as he looked like a small child about to throw a fit.

“Come _on_ , girl. I want to fuck you once more before we leave,” he whined.

Arya couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips when he spoke.

“You’re quite adorable when you’re horny,” she snickered.

He rolled his eyes at her before she tugged him by his collar to kiss him. She was shocked that his kiss was actually as gentle and sweet as he said he would be.

She hummed into the kiss while he gradually pushed her backwards to a nearby oak table. His hands were everywhere, trying to roam every inch of her body before the backs of her thighs hit the wood.

He removed her tunic and sark slowly and she reached her hands under his shirt to touch the delicious muscles on his stomach and chest. He finally reached behind his head and pulled his shirt off so she could touch him more thoroughly. When his shirt was off he brushed her hair away from her eyes and took her face in his hands and kissed her, softly sucking on her bottom lip.

Arya felt her eyes roll into the back of her head and she placed her hands on his chest and began rubbing it lightly. His hands went to the laces of her breeches and began tugging at the strings to loosen them. When he was coming up unsuccessful she smiled into their kiss and moved her hands to help him.

When she stepped out of her breeches he let his hard-calloused hands roam over her body. It looked like such a contrast as his massive tanned hands were roaming over her small, pale, soft body. Her hands also went to his breeches and he let her undo the laces while he sucked on that special spot below her ear.

She moaned when one of his hands drifted between her legs and began teasing her folds slowly. He pressed his forehead against hers and he touched her. Arya opened her eyes and tried to focus, but it was difficult as he was touching her in such a pleasurable way. She had to swallow thickly before she answered.

He kept his slow tantalizing rubs on her folds while his other hand went to her breast and teased her rosy buds. She broke their kiss in a breathless moan and let her hand travel down his stomach, beneath his breeches and grasp his hard member. He removed his breeches and smallclothes at once and moved back to her lips.

She began teasing his cock with the tips of her fingers and grinned when she heard him grunt. He moved his hands to the back of her thighs to haul her off the floor and jump to sit down on the table with her straddling his lap. 

She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and nuzzled the space between his shoulder and neck. His hands ran up and down her sides before he moved them to the centre of the table and laid them both down with her on top.

Arya rose and braced her hands on his chest looking down at him laying there grinning. “You’re actually going to let me be in charge?” she asked incredulously.

Sandor began rubbing her outer thighs before grabbing one of her hands and kissing his palm sweetly.

“No. Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you’re in charge,” he argued softly.

“Mmmm….” she said before she leaned back down to lightly bite his bottom lip.

His hands roamed her back and ass slowly as they kissed. When she began nibbling on his eat and neck he did the same.

“Fuck you smell _so_ _good_ ,” he groaned.

Arya smiled against his neck and ground her hips against him. Her wet core slid against his belly and they both groaned together. When she continued to rock against him they both were panting and swearing at each other.

She ripped herself away from his mouth and took a hold of his cock. She positioned herself so she was directly inline with it and slowly slid his manhood inside her body. At first she only went halfway as the pain from yesterday was still there. After a few tries she finally could slide him all the way in, moaning with his hands on her thighs the entire time.

She braced her hands back on his chest and looked down at him breathlessly. His temples were dripping with sweat and his chest was heaving up and down. He looked like he wanted to flip her over and take her roughly. But she knew he would restrain himself if she were still sore from this morning. He would never hurt her.

She began to move slowly. She felt like his cock stretched her out so far that at times she felt as though she might split in half. He was so much bigger in every sense of the word than her. While she rocked slowly his hands ran up her belly and to her tits to give them a gentle squeeze. He then let his hands creep to her ribs and slowly pulled her down so he could kiss her. She continued to move up and down his thick shaft lowly as she sucked on his tongue. Sandor groaned into the kiss while Arya was just trying to breath somewhat normally.

She let her forehead drop to his chest as she tried desperately to control her breathing. His hands slid from her face to her hips to help guide her along.

“You feel so good,” she breathed as she sat up with her hands braced on his chest again.

Sandor swallowed loudly before he spoke. “Put your hands on my legs behind you and lean back,” he panted. “It will be even better.”

Arya complied in his request and when she started to move her head tilted back and she moaned.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

He wasn’t kidding when he said this angle was better. She felt his cock reaching different parts of her that she didn’t know existed. Right when she thought she knew all of his tricks to get her aroused, he would drop something like this on her.

“Fuck, Arya,” he groaned. “You are so beautiful riding me like that.” His hands squeezed her hips tightly.

Arya couldn’t even respond because she felt the first wave coming close. She wanted to give him a warning but it came as a shock when it hit her with such a ferocity. She slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the cries that were coming out of her mouth.

Sandor slid his hand to her mound and began moving his thumb in quick circles to prolong her pleasure. His other hand slid up her body and began kneading her left breast again.

“I’m close, keep riding me,” he choked out.

Arya had no intention of stopping. When she hunched over to place her hand over Sandor’s on her breast she felt another wave of orgasm coming. He hadn’t made her come twice in one fucking in a long time and she was going to milk it for all it was worth. She had to keep her other hand over her mouth to keep muffling the shocking noises that were coming out.

When she finally felt his seed spill inside her she felt her whole body shake like an earthquake. She could feel the sweat dripping down her back and chest.

She remembered once when Sandor had finished fucking her he told her he found it arousing when she sweat in bed, it meant he was giving it to her good. At this instant she had to agree.

She looked down and saw Sandor had an arm thrown over his eyes. Sweat covered his chest and was dripping down his temples and forehead, just like her.

Arya leaned down and licked the sweat off his brow making him groan. His hands went to her hips and pulled her off his cock only to lay her back down on top of him. When her breathing finally slowed she looked up at him and began caressing his cheek with the back of her knuckles.

“You were vey gentle,” she observed.

“Told you,” he mumbled leaning into her hand. He allowed one of his hands to travel down the slope of her back and give her bottom a soft squeeze. His other hand made it to her head and began mildly stroking her hair.

“I’ve never seen you be that gentle,” she murmured.

Sandor peered down at her curiously before he answered. “Do you want me to be?”

Arya shook her head and nuzzled her face back into his torso. “You’re perfect as you are,” she said while drawing patterns into his chest hair. She meant it too. She like both his rough and soft sides equally. There were so many sides to the man that was lying under her. She enjoyed every bit of it.

“You know, when you lick me like you just did it makes me want to bend you over this table and fuck you senseless all over again,” he said quietly.

Arya smiled against his skin and began rubbing his chest. “Is that because hounds like to be licked by their mates?” she asked.

She heard a hum of amusement come from his chest before he answered. “I think it’s because it reminds me of how you lick my cock,” he answered crudely.

Arya slapped him on his chest in mock anger making him chuckle. She then reached behind and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was resting on her rump and moved it to her back.

“Rub my back,” she said, slightly annoyed that he already wasn’t doing so.

Sandor snorted but obeyed. “You are such a needy little thing aren’t you, woman?”

Arya grinned but otherwise didn’t say anything. She was too busy enjoying his big calloused hand run up and down her spine to think of a retort. She loved that he was so affectionate even after they made love. He was always more than happy to comply with what gave her pleasure. She was also grateful that he told her what he found arousing so she didn’t have to guess. She made a note that he liked it when she licked him like a dog. She would have to try that next time they were in a bed together.

“We need to go before someone notices our absence,” he said finally.

Arya yawned and nodded. When she pushed off his chest and jumped off the table she immediately missed his hand on her back and the warmth of his body.

They both quickly dressed and Sandor waited as Arya began lacing her hair into her top knot.

“We should do this more often,” he said quietly observing her.

Arya laughed and looked up at his gleaming eyes. “What? Fuck in an old pantry?”

Sandor shrugged making Arya laugh again. She quickly turned and looked at herself in a dusty mirror. She sighed in exasperation. Her cheeks were flushed and her clothes were dusty. Her hair was somewhat controlled, but it still looked like she just finished fighting in the pits moments ago.

“Leave off it, girl,” Sandor said, clearly annoyed that she was taking so long. “No matter what you’re going to look like you were just fucked real good so no point in trying to hide it.”

She turned and glared at him. “This is all your fault because you can’t keep it in your pants for more than an hour. My sister will know and so will every man on those fucking boats.”

She went to walk passed him but he snatched her arm and pulled her close, grinning like a cat that caught a canary.

Arya rolled her eyes at him and stepped away. She motioned to the door and Sandor just grinned but nodded. They opened the door and stepped out into the hallway and just as Sandor was closing the pantry door, Tyrion Lannister rounded the corner and came to a full stop. He first looked confused but after clearly taking in the disheveled couple Arya could see he knew what they were up to.

Arya felt her ears turn pink and Sandor audibly groaned at the lack of privacy in a castle this size.

“Really?” Tyrion said with an eyebrow raised. “You two couldn’t wait an hour until you actually stepped foot onto the boat?”

Arya desperately tried to find some kind of lie she could spin but she was coming up blank.

“Perhaps next time you both should think about at least choosing a less populated hallway to have your little tumbles in,” Tyrion said. “Several servants came to me and said it sounded like there was a child jumping up and down on a table in there.”

“Not a child,” Sandor answered. “My wolf-bitch couldn’t keep her hands off me so we fucked in the pantry.”

Arya actually felt her mouth fall open and her eyes bulge out of her head. She slapped him on the chest angrily and began stalking away from the both of them. She heard the Imp laughing and Sandor snickering as he ran to catch up to her.

“You are such a shit,” she hissed at him. “ _You_ were the one that dragged _me_ into that blasted closet.”

Sandor grinned down at her as they made their way outside. “I know, I just wanted to see your face when I told the imp you were a horny little heathen,” he said still snickering.

Arya rolled her eyes but otherwise was over his little stunt. She decided she would make him pay for it tonight by refusing to open her legs for him. She smiled at the prospect of him trying to bed her on the first night at sea only for her to reject him. She would wear his shirt to bed with nothing underneath because she knew he liked that. She smiled in anticipation of torturing the poor man.

Arya and Sandor began walking back to the pier to ready the ships. Arya was practically bouncing with each step. She was excited and happy to leave with Sandor into the unknown. She had wanted this since she was a child and couldn’t think of anyone else she would rather spend this time with.

She peered up at him and saw a slight smirk across his face. He must’ve sensed her looking up at him and he returned her gaze. She smiled and he grinned and quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching them before he swooped down to kiss her.

 Arya smiled into the kiss, she felt like she was floating with the amount of love that was pouring from her soul for this man.

Suddenly she felt herself being shoved away and slammed into a stone wall. She heard Sandor’s grunt and a clang of what could only be a sword being unsheathed. She felt a throbbing pain in her jaw where Georden had hit her. She whipped around and saw Gendry aiming King Geoffery’s crossbow at Sandor. Sandor’s back was to her and she saw he had managed to unsheathe his sword, but saw he tore the stitches on his freshly sewn arm.

Gendry’s wild eyes darted to Arya and then back at Sandor as if he was unsure of his next move. Arya unsheathed her needle and walked slowly to stand next to Sandor.

“Don’t fuckin’ move, Arya!” Gendry screamed while shaking his crossbow at her.

Arya stopped walking two feet behind Sandor. Sandor then side stepped to the left so he was directly in front of her before he spoke. “Don’t you point that fucking thing at her you coward! You want _me_ dead, you leave her out of it.”

Gendry’s eyes narrowed and Arya could see it was obvious he was about to pull the trigger.

Arya felt her breathing hitch and her heart race. Here she was, about to be the happiest she’d ever been just to have it all ripped away from her. Her mind flashed to that night he pulled her in for their first kiss. She remembered laughing with him in bed after they made love. She remembered the feeling she had when she pulled Sandor from the hole in the wall after he killed Gregor. She remembered the way he would stroke her hair in their chambers while she sat on his lap.

She also remembered what her Braavoisan teacher told her when asked what we say to the Many-Faced God.

 _Not today_ , she thought fiercely. 

At the last second Arya leaped forward and tackled Sandor to the ground just as Gendry fired off the first bow. She felt the arrow wiz by her head as she and Sandor tumbled to the floor. She heard Gendry yell out as they took him down with them.

Sandor landed on top of her and she grunted as the back of her head slammed against the stone. She just knew there would be a large bump there in the morning. She also never realized how big Sandor truly was because after he rolled off top of her, she actually felt the wind was knocked out from her lungs.

She looked up just to see Sandor with a panicked expression before he jumped up and hurled himself at Gendry. The crossbow had long since clattered on the ground and Sandor kicked it out of Gendry’s reach. Sandor then punched the young Lord in the face sending him flying into some nearby tapestries. He grabbed the boy by the neck and lifted him with his feet dangling at Sandor’s shins.

“You have some fucking nerve, _boy_ ,” Sandor growled while slamming him against the wall.

Gendry’s face started to turn red as he flailed against Sandor’s grip. Arya walked over to the fighting men and looked at Gendry in the eyes.

“What are you doing, Gendry?” she asked breathlessly. When it was clear he was unable to answer Arya motioned for Sandor to put him down.

Sandor dropped him roughly but unsheathed his sword and held it against the young Lord’s throat. Gendry sputtered and coughed while gasping for air.

“You will be hanged for this!” Gendry yelled at Sandor.

“Gendry,” Arya said softly.

Gendry looked back at her and when he tried to take a step towards her, Sandor pressed the tip of his sword against his throat in warning.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Gendry said. “He’s a monster; I mean look at him!”

Arya sighed and despite Sandor’s growl of warning, she took a step towards him. “Even if that were true, did you honestly think that killing the man I love in front of me would make me come running into your arms?”

“I won’t stop,” Gendry said looking into Arya’s eyes pleadingly. “I will never stop. You deserve someone better, someone who will do anything for you! I will never stop until that… _thing_ is dead.”

Arya ground her teeth together. Her first instinct was to lash out for threatening her mate. She looked up at Sandor and saw he was barely containing the rage radiating from his body.

“My Lady, if I may?” they heard out of nowhere from behind them.

Arya turned around and saw Tyrion, yet again, butting into her affairs.

“Eat shit, Dwarf,” Sandor growled with his eyes never leaving Gendry’s. “This is none of your business.”

“Actually, as the King’s Hand I believe it is,” Tyrion quipped. “I must admit I have witnessed the entire thing and it would be in the Lady’s right to kill this young man. I will be a witness if required.”

“Why are you doing this?” Gendry pleaded.

Tyrion smiled and looked at the ground before he clasped his arms behind his back. “Because I loved someone once and would’ve killed for her if needed be. That… monster, as you put it, is in love with Lady Arya, and she loves him. And I find it distasteful that you are trying to take that away from them.”

Arya and Sandor exchanged wide-eyed glances before Tyrion walked passed them whistling as he did so.

Arya felt Sandor’s eyes on her and while she considered her options for three heartbeats.

She finally looked back Sandor and sighed through her nose. “What do you want?” she asked Sandor directly.

“You know what I want,” Sandor snarled.

She looked back at Gendry and she saw he was trying to grab something behind him. Before she could react she saw Gendry’s hand reappear with a dagger and aimed it at Sandor’s face.

Before she could second-guess herself, Arya’s hand darted out and the blade pushed through the skin of her palm and stuck out the other side.

Arya cried out in pain and punched Gendry square in the face with her other hand. Just at Georden had done to her. She pulled the dagger out of her hand with another cry of pain and threw on the ground furiously.

Sandor looked at her in panic and concern at first, but then looked furiously at Gendry. His nostrils were flared and she saw his eyes were wild. She knew he would be angry if she killed Gendry and he could only watch.

Arya looked back up at Sandor and nodded. “Do it,” she said before turning her back and walking away.

“Wait! Arya! No!” Gendry cried before she heard the gurgled cry and then a thud. Arya knew that was unmistakably the sound of Sandor slitting the throat of the Lord of Storms End before cutting his head off all together.


	44. Sandor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *And mic drop*
> 
> Finally all done! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for commenting, liking, and subscribing to this piece! This was my first one i ever made and I thought it would be at max 60,000 words. But alas, I am an overachiever.
> 
> Sorry it dragged out there for a bit, just couldn't find a ending i liked so i went with tired and sappy. I wish I had the heart to kill one of them, but just couldn't do it. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks again and i hope maybe i'll have another inspiration as good as the Arya and Sandor characters.

Sandor waited outside the maester’s courters for the second time today, both because of Gendry fucking Baratheon.

When he slit the throat of the little shit he was happy watching his body convulse and twitch with his blood pouring out the wound. But that wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to make sure the little bastard couldn’t be burned at a funeral, so he cut his head clean off with his sword. He then stabbed him in the heart just to be sure the job was done proper. He liked the crimson that shown with the morning sunlight. He had tilted his head back and reveled in the feeling that they were rid of this nuisance for once and for all in their lives.

When he caught up to Arya to look at her hand she wordlessly patted him on the cheek and towed him to the maester’s chambers to re-sew his wound and fix her hand.

He was still reeling over the shock that he missed the dagger coming straight towards his face. He made a future note that when they were fighting side-by-side he could not let her be a distraction or he may get himself killed. He felt a pain in his gut as he remembered the sound of the knife stabbing though Arya’s hand. He both hated and adored that she did that for him.

When Arya opened the door and moved to stand next to him he gently grabbed the sleeve of her coat and examined the maesters work on her hand. Her palm was wrapped but he could see the small dots of blood that had seeped through the bandages.

“It’s fine,” she assured him.

When he looked down at her he gritted his teeth. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he grumbled.

She removed her hand from his grasp and gently placed it on his cheek. “Better to be stabbed in the hand than be stabbed in the face,” she said with a sad smile.

Sandor felt his cheek twitch in anger that she put herself in such danger. He didn’t want her to sacrifice her health for someone like him but he knew she would be too stubborn to listen.

“Let’s get the fuck out of this city before someone else tries to kill us, shall we?” he asked finally.

Arya gave him a dazzling smile before she turned and began practically ran to the door. He vowed that he would work tirelessly to the end of his days to get her to smile like that again. To anyone else she would seem cold and unimpressed, but he could tell she was overjoyed. He was pleased that he could get her in high spirits. He needed to make sure that she didn’t end up miserable like he was for half his life. He wanted her to always be as happy as she was at this very moment.

When they made it to the pier he saw Sansa, the cripple, and Tyrion waiting to say goodbye to them. Sandor shifted uncomfortably when Arya and her sister embraced. He could hear them whispering to one another but could not make out what they were saying. He did, however, hear when Sansa told her sister that any time Arya wanted to come back that both of them were welcome to do so.

When Arya moved to hug her brother Sansa moved to stand in front Sandor with a smile.

“I hope you’ll take care of her,” she said. “She’s tough but she’ll need help even though she will rarely ask for it.”

“I know,” Sandor muttered.

“And when she’s being stubborn you can’t do anything by force. She will just fight you until you are both blue in the face.”

“I know, Little Bird,” Sandor said softly. He could tell the older Stark was fighting back the tears of her younger sister leaving.

He grimaced when Sansa wrapped her arms around his waist for a hug.

The only other woman to embrace him like this was Arya. It felt odd to have someone so much taller and so much softer pressed against him. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. He didn’t like that she smelt of flowers or that her head almost reached his chin. Arya always smelt of pine and her head barely reached his chest. He also hated how she was so openly smiling at him rather than trying to hide it from public the way Arya did. He couldn’t believe at one point he wanted to fuck this woman. She did absolutely nothing for him now.

He kept his arms at his sides and stood uncomfortably for the duration of their brief embrace. When she finally released him she gave him another small smile and walked back over to Arya to give her yet another hug.

“I hope one day you will come back, Clegane,” said Tyrion.

“We’ll have to,” Sandor shrugged. “She’ll want to visit her brother and sister.”

Tyrion smiled slowly and looked at the three Stark children whispering to each other. “I never thought I’d see the day that Sandor, the Hound, Clegane would have his actions dictated by a woman. And such a tiny one at that.”

Sandor snorted and folded his arms across his chest. “If you fucked a woman as wild as Arya Stark, you too would be doing whatever she wished,” he said lowly so the Stark’s couldn’t hear. “Girl’s got just as much bite in my bed as she does on the battlefield.”

Tyrion’s eyes went wide before he burst out laughing. “Yes, well, maybe don’t tell her sister that’s why you’re being such a gentleman in granting said wishes.”

Sandor chuckled and nodded. He had to admit he would miss the little whore-mongering dwarf. Even if he was as slippery as a serpent when he was planning his schemes.

When Arya turned he could see she was slightly distressed, but not nearly as bad as when Jon had left. He knew she would be sad to leave her family, but she would handle this much better than she did with Jon. And he would be there for all of it, the good and the bad. He would hold her at night while she cried if she needed, or he would let her fight with the men until her palms bled. He didn’t care, he would help her anyway she needed until the end of his days.

Arya motioned with her head that it was time to go and Sandor walked with her towards the boats without looking back.

“You sure about this, old man?” she asked in a teasing voice.

Sandor laughed as they made their way up the bridge onto the ship. “Aye, as I’ve said before, I go where you go, little wolf.”

When they aboard the ship Arya and Sandor immediately separated and began barking orders at various men to get the sails up and begin their departure. Sandor helped hoist the sails as a young man was clearly struggling. He then went to see that the anchor was secured and yelled at a Dornish man for picking at his nails rather than helping other crewmembers.

When all was said and done and everyone was in their proper places, Sandor went in search of Arya. He found her at the stern of the ship looking back at her siblings in Kings Landing, miles and miles away. He moved to stand beside her and subtly placed his hand over her injured palm that rested on the railing. He felt her hand turn up and squeeze his fingers gratefully.

She looked up at him with her owlish grey eyes while biting her lip.

“Your parents would be proud of you, sweetling,” he murmured. “You are breaking new ground. People all across the lands will know your name and what you’ve done for the all the kingdoms.”

Arya swallowed loudly and looked back at Kings Landing. Sandor decided to hells with propriety and put his hand under her chin and turned it look up at him.

“You alright?” he asked.

Arya swallowed loudly and nodded quickly. “I am well. Just worried I’ll fuck it all up somehow.”

Sandor shook his head before answering. “You’ll do fine. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Arya nodded seriously and gave him a warm smile.

“I love you,” he mumbled quietly.

Arya grinned at him. “I thought you said you’d never say that again?”

“Yes, well… consider this the only exception,” he grumbled at her.

She laughed once and placed a hand on his elbow and squeezed.

“I love you too,” she said after he swooped down and kissed her deeply.

When they parted she was still smiling at him and he gave her chin a slight squeeze before he stepped away from her and clasped his arms behind his back.

“So, my Captain, which way are we headed?” he asked with a smirk.

Arya beamed back at him and they made their way to the top deck to begin the journey to the vast unknown.

 

*Fin* 


End file.
